Sessions II Nine Months
by iyimgrace
Summary: House has married his 'Frozen' psychiatrist because she's been the only one to defrost his heart. What happens now that they are unexpectedly pregnant? Can House cope with being a husband and a daddy? Sequel to Sessions. Rated M for language & adult sit.
1. Chapter 1

**Sessions II: Nine months**

_A/N: Hello to all of my loyal fans and to you newbies to the Sessions Universe. I can' tell you how touched I am by your kind words and support throughout the whole time I was writing Sessions. I had no idea it would have garnered such an enthusiastic response. And yes, to all of you clamoring for more, I ended the first one with the intention of writing a sequel. I couldn't just leave it there hanging in the wind like that. That would be too cruel. Besides, I'm not ready to give up my version of House and the crew just yet. So buckle up kiddies… House is married and there's a little one on the way. And it's coinciding with Wilson and Cuddy's baby. How much more fun could that be? This I know promises to be a fun, angsty, hilarious thrill ride. Enjoy!!!_

Disclaimer: I own nothing related to House, much to my dismay…

**Chapter 1**

House and Cate sat in the bathroom and waited. He was perched solemnly on the edge of the tub holding his watch in his hand. She was sitting on the toilet seat cover with her hands nervously tucked in between her knees.

The test stick sat on the rim of the sink between them.

Sixty tiny seconds had taken an eternity to pass.

"It was purple as soon as I peed on it, " she blurted out.

"Fifteen more seconds, " he said looking at her out of the corner of his eye. His face was passive, non-expressive. The irony of his patience was not lost on her. Frankly, it was a little unsettling.

Cate rocked back and forth anxiously. She was terribly nervous. This was a huge step. Not that either one of them really had a choice anymore. This was really more of a perfunctory exercise than anything else. She was already about five days late. And the human pregnancy test was pretty confident that he was right. She let out a puff of air between her lips waiting for the remaining seconds to tick away into existence. _What will be, will be. Right?_

Finally, the last second passed and he stood up from the bathtub. She rose to stand next to him by the sink. They both stared blankly at the stick.

"Yep, it's purple alright, " he replied.

"Oh boy, " Cate muttered.

"Or girl, " he corrected flippantly.

She was numb and her stomach sort of did a flip flop. Braving a look at him, she pointed out to him breathlessly, "We're going to have a baby."

He took one, then two stumbling steps backward and sat down with a thud on the toilet seat. Dropping his head into his hands, he scrubbed at his face and let out a strangled sound. _Oh no…_ Now, Cate was really nervous. Now that they knew for sure, Mr. Patience had just cracked.

"Greg, " she urged coming to her knees before him. "Greg, look at me." She laid her hands on his arms trying to get him to face her. He moved his hand slightly but only his eyes stuck out from behind his long fingers. They were big. Big and terrified.

Now she was just plain petrified.

Feeling dizzy, she sat back on the floor and leaned against the bathtub bringing her knees up to her chest. She accidentally bumped her breast on her thigh and it burned like hell. Automatically tears sprung to her eyes. Damn it, she could barely fit in the bra she was wearing anymore and her breasts felt like boulders on lava hot pins and needles.

And now he was scared stiff. _This was just great._

What were they going to do? She thought he was okay with all of this. He seemed nonplussed and calm about it for the rest of their week in Jamaica. He had been so proud of his assumption that both she and Cuddy were pregnant that he had told everyone what he suspected on the day of their wedding. Cuddy had almost fallen over because she had finally become pregnant after three years of trying unsuccessfully at in vitro. _What a fortunate windfall for her._ Cate, however, was in denial. So much had happened that day that she and House got married. So much had changed, she just couldn't process any more. The thought of a baby on top of it all was just too much. Besides, she thought he couldn't possibly be right. She had had her period three weeks before. He said it was implantation. She didn't tell him, however, that she knew it had been much lighter than normal. After she thought about it, she knew it was implantation too.

So here they were, home from their vacation/wedding/honeymoon for less than a day. Pregnant. This was a hell of a way to start a marriage.

Cate had a horrible thought. What if he couldn't deal? What if he panicked and ran? Well, he couldn't literally run but he could certainly push her away. He was entirely capable of being emotionally unavailable for a very, very long time. That much she knew and she didn't think she could handle that. His immediate reaction wasn't sitting well with her. She was disappointed because he had been so completely open and positive before. He had seemed so cool and collected, but now… now he was freaking her out. She looked away from him to the corner of the bathroom and began to cry. There was no way she could do this alone, without him.

Cate felt him come to sit by her side on the tile floor. He slid awkwardly down against the tub with his leg outstretched and his other one bent. Wrapping his arms around her, he pulled her into his chest and planted a light kiss on her hair. The damn broke and she sobbed into his t-shirt holding fistfuls of the soft cotton like a tether to something, anything real.

"I'm so sorry, " he whispered to her when her cries tapered off to soft shudders of breath.

Thinking 'maybe she didn't have anything to worry about', she shook her head slightly. "This is a big deal, " she told him. "We're both scared."

"This is all my fault, " he continued. "I should have worn a condom. I never have sex without condoms. Ever. Until you."

She pulled back in his embrace to look at him. "No. It's my fault. I was on the pill. I didn't take it because I was sick and I just didn't _think_."

He laughed dryly, running his hand over her hair. "We're such idiots. We're two doctors, sitting here wondering how the hell we got pregnant. This poor kid is doomed."

Sitting up, she laughed self-deprecatingly and wiped at her nose. "I never wanted a baby."

His eyes veiled, he shrugged and rested his arm on his propped up knee. "Me either."

"What are we going to do, " she asked him seriously. He was quiet for a while, his face working through a series of expressions from confusion, to contemplation, to concern.

"You said you never _wanted_ a baby. Does that mean you do now, " he asked cautiously.

"Do you?" she asked.

He gave her a reproachful look. "I asked you first."

She sighed running her hand over her face. That was the question that had circled aimlessly around her head for a week now since the possibility had been posed to her. But she had pushed it off until they were home and able to take a pregnancy test. Faced with the glaring positive answer, she wasn't sure. "I don't honestly know."

"Fair enough, " he murmured with a concise nod. He ran the backs of his knuckles under his scruff on his chin like he did when he was contemplating something. "You need to decide whether you want to terminate or not."

Cate stared at him. _Terminate?_ This conversation just took a turn she wasn't quite sure she saw coming. _Was he serious?_ "I have to decide?" she questioned. "This is just as much your baby too. I can't make that decision on my own."

"It's your body, " he said plainly. "It's your decision. I don't have to carry the fetus. You do."

She blinked at him in confusion. Fetus? _Oh, that was rich_. Now, all of a sudden he was all 'Dr. House'. Unemotional, detached. He was talking to her like she was one of his patients and he was giving her the list of options, except if that was the case, he wouldn't even be in the room with her. Taub would be the one telling her what to do. That very thought made her angry.

"I am not making this decision on my own, " she stated hotly. "You don't get to sit by like a spectator and wait to see which side of the fence the ball drops on."

His face turned hard and unreadable but his laser blue eyes bore into her. "I have no say in what you do to your body. I can't make you carry this pregnancy to term if you don't want to. I'm sitting here on the floor with you. This is about as much input as I get."

Staring back at him, she set her jaw firmly. She wasn't going to let him skate around this. _Oh, no… he wasn't getting out of this that easily._ "You are my husband. This is your child. I need to know how you feel about this, " she demanded. "I need to know if you want to have this baby, Greg." Hot tears prickled at her eyes again but she fought to keep them at bay. Her hands were shaking and she balled them up into fists against her thighs. She vowed she wasn't going to cry about this, not now.

He swallowed hard and a muscle worked in his jaw. "If you don't want this, then it doesn't matter how I feel about it."

_God, he was being so difficult_. "I think I do want this baby but I'm telling you right now, I won't do it alone."

For a split second, she could almost see the relief wash over his face but he recovered it fast. "Fine. If you're happy, then I'm…" He stopped and shrugged indifferently.

_What the hell kind of declaration was that?_ She glared at him daring him to finish his sentence. Instead, he stubbornly stared back at her. She closed her eyes and counted to ten for patience. "Greg, " she warned. "I said that I won't do this alone."

He looked at her and shook his head. "We're married now. It's no that easy to get divorced. Just ask Wilson."

She rubbed her forehead with her hand in frustration. "Is that supposed to mean you're not going anywhere? That you aren't going to run the first sign this get's difficult?"

He swept his hand demonstratively over his leg. "Can't really run, now can I?"

_Oh my god. Was she insane?_ Having a child with him would be like having two infantile regression patients in the same room. It would be sheer lunacy. She must be a crazy person to even consider this as a viable possibility. She shook her head vehemently. "Why can't you just tell me how you feel about this? What is so fucking hard about that?"

Sighing heavily, he picked at the bathmat under his thigh. His eyes changed to a deep azure color as he stared fixedly at the tan and brown fibers and he frowned. He was silent for a long time and her heart sank. When he did look back at her, the emotion on his face was palpable. Cate swallowed afraid to breathe thinking that if she made a sound she'd scare him back into hiding. "I want this baby. And that scares the shit out of me."

Cate's heart squeezed in her chest and she thought she might stop breathing. _He wanted the baby…_ She placed her hand gently on his thigh coming close to him. "I know this isn't how you envisioned your life to be. We've been through so many changes so fast but, if we promise to do this together we might come out ok."

He laced his fingers with hers and searched her eyes. "What about you? Do you really want this baby?"

"I'm scared, but… I do, " she said bringing her lips together in a small smile as she remembered saying those two little words to him just ten days ago. For as terrifying as this was, she really did want this baby because it was a piece of him growing inside her. And that was pretty special. "I do want this baby."

"Okay then, " he nodded.

Cate wanted to press him for more detail about how he felt but she knew he was done talking; he had said enough. If she had gone any further, they'd end up fighting for real. It was enough that he said that he wanted to have the baby. That was really all she needed to know right now. Leaning forward, she laid herself against his chest again and he closed his arms around her squeezing her tightly as if he could send all of his feelings to her nonverbally so he didn't have to share them out loud. She could hear his heart beating wildly in his chest. He was definitely not comfortable with the idea just yet. Neither was she for that matter. This was going to take some time getting used to.

House rubbed soothing circles over her back and shoulders as they sat together on the floor. He looked around the bathroom and then down at her face. "How come we always seem to have these major discussions on the bathroom floor?"

Cate laughed and then nuzzled into the pillow of his shoulder. "Maybe because once you're down, you're stuck. You can't hide from me."

"Oh, that's just wrong, " he griped. "Mock the crippled guy."

Cate chuckled and placed a kiss on his jaw. "We should call our parents and tell them."

"Happy grandparents…" he muttered. "My mother will be beside herself. If I didn't know better, she worked some sort of Grandma mojo to make this happen."

"Yeah, she baked it into her Thanksgiving apple pie, " Cate joked. "She got Cuddy too. Oh my God, we should warn Thirteen."

House laughed. "Foreman and his lesbian Baby Mama, wouldn't that make them Fifteen?"

"She's not a lesbian, " Cate laughed. All of a sudden, Cate remembered something. She sat up and covered her mouth. "Oh no, I took Xanax." She grimaced and lowered her voice to a whisper. "And we smoked pot that night…"

He laughed and took hold of her hand. "And you're afraid that the baby will hear? It doesn't have ears yet."

"Those drugs, Greg, that's not good for the baby, " she insisted. She wouldn't tell Thirteen that she'd associated her with taking drugs. That, she'd just keep under her hat.

"Don't worry, I'll explain to the kid that Mommy was a big crack head when he comes out looking like a Picasso, " he quipped.

"Shut up, " she smacked his arm and then bit her thumbnail apprehensively. "You don't think that anything I took will…"

"Please, if anything, the baby's gonna look like a little Vicodin pill with big blue eyes, " he said. "Nothing you did would harm the baby. You'd have to do drugs repeatedly for it to be a problem. A couple of Xanax and one joint in Jamaica isn't anything but a good time."

Of course he was right. He always was. "I did have a good time in Jamaica, " she said. "I left with a boyfriend and came back with a husband. Who knew?"

"Usually works the other way around, I think, " he pondered and ran his thumb over the back of her hand playing with her wedding rings.

She smiled and ran her finger over his shiny new band. "I like this on you, " she said coyly.

He smiled shyly. "Yeah, with this, a baby _and_ the cane, I'll be so sexy I'll have to beat them off with, well…with my cane, " he joked.

"You know that they're going to notice tomorrow when we go back to work," she mentioned casually. "Are you planning on telling them?"

"Yep, "He nodded. "After I fuck with them a bit."

"What are you going to do, " she asked.

"I don't know yet, " he said. "I'm working on it."

"Please don't tell them about the baby yet, " she begged. "I don't want everyone to know until we're sure everything's ok."

He nodded. "I think it'll be enough of a shock finding out that we're married. Be careful in the psyche ward, they might actually lock you in."

"Stop, " she chided.

"It's true, " he remarked. "You have to be a stone cold lunatic to marry me."

"The thought has crossed my mind, " she teased. "However, I get a little perverse sense of triumph knowing that I'm the one that finally nailed you down."

He laughed. "Oh, there ain't nothing that's nailed down about me."

"No, you're a little unhinged, but that's what I love about you, " she assured him.

He smirked. "Happy to oblige."

She smiled at him and leaned into kiss him. "We're really going to have a baby."

He touched his knuckles to her cheek softly. "Yes, we are." He smiled and cast his eyes downward. "You know what the best part of that is?"

"What?" she asked.

"Your breasts are huge, " he remarked with a lecherous grin.

Disgusted, she smacked his arm and he laughed at her. She picked herself off the floor and left him on the bathroom tile as he called after her, "See I told you your ass wasn't getting big because of the Drake's Funnybones…" She sauntered barefoot into the living room, ignoring him and picking up the phone. "Hey… you gonna leave me here… on the cold tile floor? I'm stuck. Man with one leg, down… Can't get up…The father of your child? I love your big ass… Cate?"

The phone rang in her ear as she smirked to herself sitting in his spot on the sofa. He could get off the damn floor himself. "Hi Dad…"

HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

House lay in bed that night with Cate tucked up against his front, his feet curled around hers and his face buried in her hair by her neck. He inhaled the sweet scent of her coconut shampoo and left over traces of her exotic perfume loving how just one whiff of her could calm him. However, he needed more than one breath tonight. He needed her glued to his side to anchor him to the reality that they were facing together. He flattened his palm against the soft skin of her belly where their baby grew and smiled to himself in the darkness. Never in his life did he think that he'd be in this place. Married for one to a beautiful intelligent woman, who complemented his abrasive personality at every jagged turn. And with child for another. That was a shock, even though it really shouldn't have been.

Cate was everything to him and now she was going to be the mother of his child. He still couldn't believe that it was real.

They had calculated when she had conceived and they figured it had to be the first night they had made love. Irony of ironies, the very same night his mother told him to marry her and make her some grandbabies. _Her Grandma mojo_… He knew then, that he was throwing caution to the wind, but he had ignored it because he was caught up in the moment of being with her. Maybe he was secretly ready and didn't know it himself then. He loved her like he had loved no other woman. And it just felt right. He didn't believe in Fate or Destiny, or Happily Ever After. But damn it, if it sure didn't feel like it. Everything about her just felt like it was meant to be.

The logical, analytic side of him questioned everything. Would he be a good father? Would he have the capacity to love a child, be patient with a child, give them room to grow and experience? Or, would he be like his father, harsh and unyielding? He never wanted to be like his father, not as a man and certainly not as a parent. He would never willingly subject a child to that kind of anguish, but he knew that there was that same characteristic inside of him, as loath as he was to admit it to himself. He treated his team like that. Failure was never an option and he was harsh when they disappointed him. He wondered if he would treat his child that way too.

But then, he could see Cate's face and hear her voice telling him that he could never be that way. When he looked in her eyes, he knew in his soul that she believed in him. That she truly believed he had the capacity for love. He must have or he wouldn't be blessed with her love and compassion. What he ever did to deserve her, he'd never know but damned if he wasn't going to try and not fuck this up. He didn't think he could live with himself if he hurt her… or their baby.

Nuzzling into her, he closed his eyes against her hair on the pillow wrapped in the comfort of her scent and her warmth. In his dreams on the bus with Amber, he had felt no pain and he had wanted to stay. Here in reality, the pain in leg remained ever-present but the pain in his soul had diminished to be replaced with true love and deep affection. Was he a different man? No. He was just better for it.

Sleepily, Cate placed her hand over his, protectively holding their baby silently telling him that everything would be alright. He couldn't totally say that he believed that was true, but he sure hoped it would be.


	2. Chapter 2: Liar, Liar

Sessions II: Nine Months

Chapter 2: Liar, Liar

House pushed open the door to Princeton Plainsboro Teaching Hospital at 9:30 AM on Monday morning. His vacation was officially over and the first day of the rest of his life had just begun. Why he was out of bed, showered, dressed and ready for work before 9:30 AM was beyond him. A lot of things had changed over the past ten days but that part shouldn't have altered. Morning was not a good time for him, nor did he think it would ever be. Baby on the way or not. The butt-crack of dawn was an evil, nefarious time and no one should ever have to see that time of day, so he didn't understand why he was up so early. When his eyes sprung open before Cate's at 7:30, he was shocked. For some bizarre reason, he had pepper in his ass this morning. He had gotten up and showered. Threw some clothes on and made coffee. At home. And cooked her breakfast, which she promptly threw up, but that was beside the point. This morning, he was a freaking early bird with no pain. He felt… good. And that was just plain odd.

Cuddy met him promptly in the lobby as soon as he set foot into the building. She was unusually chipper as she held out a navy blue folder for him. "You have a new patient, " she sing-songed to him.

"Are you stalking me?"

"No. I was actually on my way up to deliver the case file Foreman, " she explained. "I just happened to run into you."

Ambling over to the elevator, she fell cheerfully into step beside him. "I assume from your uncharacteristically girly demeanor, your stick turn purple too, " he remarked.

She smiled excitedly and looked around. In a hushed voice she replied, "Yes. But, I don't want you to say anything until we know everything is safe."

"What is that, " he questioned. "Cate said the same thing." He punched the elevator button with his cane.

"It's just a precaution, " she explained. "It a superstition to tell about a pregnancy before the second trimester."

"Superstitions are bullshit, " he told her. "The viability of an embryo prior to 12 weeks has noting to do with old wives' tales."

She rolled her eyes and held out the folder for him to take. "15 year old male came into the ER last night with severe abdominal cramps and bloody stool."

"Yum, gotta love the bloody stool, " he said taking the folder from her.

The elevator doors swooshed open and he entered the car. To his surprise Cuddy followed him. "Why are you here so early?"

He made a suspicious face. "Why are you following me?"

"I'm not following you, " she answered. "We're having a conversation."

"Oh, that's what this is, " he said sarcastically. "I thought you were giving me a case and then you were going to make a like a woodchuck and get the _chuck_ out of here, if you know what I mean."

She made a face at him and then continued. "You said 'too'. Cate's pregnant?" The doors slid closed and he had the feeling that he wanted to claw his way out through the trap door and shimmy up the cable to freedom.

He nodded succinctly in response to her question hoping he really didn't have to elaborate.

"Oh that's wonderful House. Cate must be thrilled, " she cooed. "Our kids are going to be the same age."

Good God, he hated chit-chat. Just because they went on vacation together, he was supposed to be her new best friend? "So it was Jimmy's super sperm that did the trick, " he said moving the train back in her direction looking at the ceiling at the trap door and tapping his cane on the floor. _If only he could climb…_

She blushed and smiled. "I knew I should have asked him right from the that time wasted searching for a donor…" He slid a look at her out of the corner of his eye. She was practically gushing. "I don't know what took us so long to finally figure it out. But, I can't even tell you how excited he is about it."

"It's just one more needy person for him to fulfill, " he muttered.

"Well, when he has _you_, how does he ever have time for anyone else, " she muttered sarcastically back at him. The door to the fourth floor opened and he stepped out, praying that she wasn't going to follow him. She did. Why, he wasn't sure. Nor did he care.

He looked back at her with irritation and pushed open the door to Diagnostics with a dramatic sweep of the arm. "Dr. Cuddy, I will not have sex with you and that's final. I'm a married man for God's sakes!" She stood stock still at the threshold of the door with her mouth agape as the four pairs of eyes landed on her. "Taub's the one who's into the infidelity thing, try him." He pointed his cane at the short doctor who was sitting in one of the chairs off to the side reading the newspaper earning a disgruntled snort from his insulted employee. Cuddy snapped her mouth shut and turned on her heel heading in the directions of Wilson's office. He smirked and dumped his backpack on Taub's lap. "Be a _mensch_ and take care of that for me." Taub smirked back with laced venom and dropped the pack from a considerable height down onto the floor, behind one of the chairs, which was distinctly awkward for him to get to. House glared at him. _Touché, asshole_…

"Welcome back, " Kutner greeted him cheerfully sitting down with his mug of coffee.

"Thank God, " Thirteen expressed gratefully. "Now you can take your crazy, sex maniac cat back, she won't leave me alone."

"Aw come on, she's a good little _pussy_, you should know all about how to handle that, " he commented with a smirk as he made his way over to the coffee machine.

"Fuck you. So glad you're back, " she retorted bringing her attention back to her magazine. "You can come get her tonight after our shift."

He poured himself a cup and fixed it with three sugars and some half and half. Turning back to them he leaned on the counter. "So my little ducklings, did you miss Daddy while he was gone?"

"Yeah."

"No."

"No."

"Hell no." That was Foreman. "It was quiet, manageable and sane for a change. I almost thought I was working in a real hospital. Is that a case?" He pointed at the folder in his hand.

"Yo… I come back looking like a broth'a from another moth'a and that's how you play me, " he protested. "Where's the love G?"

Foreman shook his head. "You may be all tan and relaxed but, you ain't got the soul of broth'a. You're still just an Oreo. "

Foreman grabbed for the folder but House pulled it out of his reach."Ohh snap… Still your boss."

Taub chuckled from behind his medical journal.

Kutner looked confused. "I don't get it. Why'd you call him a cookie?"

Thirteen glanced up at him with an incredulous expression. "What are you retarded?"

Foreman took pity on him. "An Oreo, black on the outside, white on the inside."

"Kutner, sometimes you frighten me, " House said tossing the file down at the perplexed young one. "Differential diagnosis: 15 year old male brought into the ER last night with severe stomach cramps and blood in the stool. No fever. No history of ulcers, colitis, etc…"

"Meckles diverticulum, " Thirteen offered stealing the chart from Kutner.

"You're not going to tell us about your trip, " Kutner asked leaning over to read upside down.

House glared at him. "No. Kid's pooping blood. A tad more important."

"He could have a bleeding ulcer. Not even a little bit?" he pressed.

"No." House stared at him. "And I just said 'no' history of ulcers. Why don't you climb under the table and see if you can read it through the glass?" he snarked because Kunter's leaning was annoying him.

"He could have had an ulcer and didn't know it until now, " Taub offered coming to the table. Thirteen slid the older doctor the open folder and Kutner slammed back down into his seat with a slouch.

"True but there should have been some kind of history of indigestion and stomach upset, " House countered taking a sip of his coffee.

"What's on your finger, " Thirteen asked peering at him like she was a pair of binoculars.

House held his right hand out and flipped it back and forth. "Oh my God, I hope it's not a booger. I picked a big one in the elevator on the ride up, " he remarked over-dramatically with a concerned shrug.

She rolled her eyes at him. "No. Other hand, " she said standing to get a closer look.

"Is that a…" Foreman interjected coming a bit closer away from where he was writing symptom on the whiteboard.

"It is, " Taub confirmed.

"What? I can't see, " Kutner complained craning his neck from the end of the table where House usually sat.

"It's a wedding ring?" Thirteen exclaimed. Her eyes were huge with disbelief.

House switched his coffee to his other hand and held up his left hand, looking casually at the ring flipping that hand back and forth. "Oh, you mean this?" He smiled. "Yup. It's a wedding ring."

They all stared at him in silence.

House snorted. "Don't all congratulate me at once."

They all continued to stare at him. _Oh, this was fun_… _He didn't even have to do anything and they were stymied. _

"We'll take cash as a wedding gift, " he added.

A good three minutes went by as they stared at him in stunned silence. He smirked and casually sipped at his coffee.

Finally, Foreman broke out into laughter. "Oh, that's good." He covered his mouth with the knuckle of his finger and then pointed it back at House. "That's a good one. You had us there for a second."

"Wait. What?" Kutner disagreed. "Why would he pretend?"

"To mess with us, " Taub retorted.

"You really are retarded, " Thirteen insisted.

House was confused. "Hold on a minute. You guys don't believe me?" He held up his hand for them to get a better look at the ring. "This is my wedding ring."

Foreman laughed harder. "You? Married? Cameron will marry Chase before you'll ever get married. Never gonna happen."

Taub shook his head and shrugged. "House, you've got to admit, you're not exactly the marrying kind of guy."

"It's a real wedding band, " House said. _Frankly, he was a little insulted_.

"This is all an elaborate practical joke, " Foreman said and pointed at the ring. "And that's not real."

Thirteen got up from the table and trotted over on her stiletto heeled boots. Grasping his hand, she inspected his ring. "It's a real wedding ring, guys."

"Yeah, but that doesn't mean anything, " Taub objected. "He probably borrowed on of Wilson's old wedding rings. He's got what… three of them?"

"You guys think he'd really go to such lengths just to fuck with us, " Kutner asked.

"Two years in a row he's fixed the secret Santa gifts to screw with us, " Foreman reminded the young fellow.

"But, that's because he hates Christmas, " Kutner objected. "It's like April fools for him."

"And this is this year's joke, " Foreman stated.

"He paid $3500 for a hooker to play a dead breast implant patient because we used his name on a website, " Taub responded. "The man is capable of anything."

Kutner actually looked pissed. "So you're saying he got married to fuck with us?"

"You're an idiot, " Hose said. "You think I got married just to mess with your pea sized brains?"

"They're not married, Taub said.

House shook his head. "We are married."

Thirteen shook her head. "Is Cate in on this?"

House stared at his sole female fellow. "She married me, for crying out loud. Of course she's 'in on it'."

"Man, you've tainted another good woman, " Foreman said shaking his head.

"What the fuck is that supposed to mean?" House shot at him.

"Now you've got Cate lying for you too, " Foreman replied. "It's like you've got a harem of women who'll say anything for you."

"You better not be including me in that list, " Thirteen shot at Foreman with her arms crossed over her chest.

House couldn't believe his ears. They actually did not believe him. "It's not a lie. Cate and I were married in Jamaica on Christmas Day. Wilson was my best man. Cuddy was her whatever. My mother and Cate's father were there."

Kutner turned on him. "Dude, Christmas Day? You hate Christmas, now I know you're lying," he challenged. "That's a really shitty thing to fuck around with. That woman loves you and you'd lie about it?"

"I'm not lying, " he exclaimed.

"Yeah, ok, " Foreman said.

"Sure, " Taub muttered.

Thirteen just kept her arms crossed and shook her head.

Kutner looked at him like he had just killed his pet dog.

House was pissed. This was one of the most important things he's done in his life and not a single one of them believed him. They thought he was pulling a hoax. _Fuckers_.

"Go get a colonoscopy and a contrast CT of the abdomen. And Kutner's doing the barium enema and the stool sample."

He limped heavily into his office and slammed the door with a reverberating clank. They didn't believe him? What the fuck?

HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

Cate knocked on Cuddy's office door and waited for the hospital administrator to call her in.

She crossed the office and sat in one of the chairs in front of her desk. "What I wouldn't give to be sitting back on the chaise with a pina colada and a view of Manuel again."

Cuddy grinned and leaned back in her chair. "No kidding. Instead, I'm swimming in stacks of year end financial reports that I have to go over with Accounting."

"That's why you get paid the big bucks, lady, " Cate pointed out.

"So, I hear it's official, " Cuddy said.

Cate smiled and then shook her head. "Yeah. It's official. You?"

Cuddy let out a contented sigh. "Yeah. For sure. I think we bought five different tests."

Cate laughed. "Oh, one was enough."

"I've been through this and disappointed so many times. I had to make sure it was real."

Nodding, Cate smiled sympathetically at her friend. "I'm keeping fingers crossed for you."

Cuddy eyed her concerned. "You don't seem very happy. Is everything alright. I know he's a pain in the ass…"

"No everything is ok, " she cut her off. "We just never really talked about having kids together. Hell for that matter, we never talked about getting married. It's all just so much in such a short time."

Cuddy leaned forward. "Do you regret getting married?"

Cate shook her head quickly. "No. Not at all. I'm thrilled. I just never expected that he would want to…" She scratched at spot behind her ear. "That was a happy surprise."

"And the baby wasn't, " Cuddy surmised.

Cate set her lips in a twisted little frown. "Not so much."

"Are you not going to keep the baby, " she asked her carefully.

"We are, " she said. "It just scares both of us, but somewhere inside, we both want this baby."

"That's a good thing, Cate, " Cuddy reassured her. "I'm sure it will get easier with time."

"I know, " she said. "Right now, we have to get over the hurdle of people finding out we're married."

Cuddy looked at her dubiously. "Yeah, that's not going to be an easy one to swallow."

"I've already had six nurses, two doctors and my assistant offer their condolences, " she replied.

Cuddy pressed lips together holding back a smirk. "That's… I…um, don't know what to say."

Cate laughed. "Please, I married House. What the hell else are people going to say? He's a giant pain in the ass and everyone knows it. I'm sure they think I should be in an insane asylum."

"I'll keep a spot reserved for you, " Cuddy snickered.

"Excellent, " Cate said joining in. "In the meantime, I need to start the process to change my name on all of my paper work."

Cuddy's eyes widened. "You're going to take his name?"

"I haven't told him yet, " Cate said with a little smile. "I think he just assumes I'm not. I want to use _Milton-House_ here at work to distinguish between the two of us, but I want all of my legal paperwork to say _House_."

"Oh Cate, " Cuddy expressed. "That's so wonderful."

"My mother would roll over in her grave if I didn't, " Cate said with a rueful little smile. Her mother was very traditional. Not taking her husbands name would have unsettled her to no end. It was a small thing that she could do to honor her mother's memory.

Cuddy waved her hand at her. "I'm going to have to explain to my mother why I'm still not married but pregnant. That might actually put her in her grave."

"Have you both talked about getting married?"

"Yeah but, right now we're content to just _be_, " Cuddy explained. "He's been married three times and I haven't been a real relationship, ever. We need to take it slow."

"Slow? You're having a baby together, it can't get much faster than that, " Cate pointed out.

"Yes, " she drew out slowly. "We're going to re-examine it later."

"Ok, " Cate said letting the subject go. She was going to let House tackle that one with Wilson because she was sure that he would certainly have an opinion about it.

"Have you decided who's going to be your OB?" Cuddy asked.

"I've been seeing Sheldon for a while, " Cate told her. "He's pretty good."

"You know that he and House hate each other, right?"

Cate made a face. "Do I really want to know why?"

"Probably not. Let's just say the words 'moron' and 'asshole' were flying back and forth a lot," Cuddy told her.

"Great, " Cate muttered. "This will just add to the already peaceful transition."

Cuddy grimaced. "Good luck."

Cate rose from her chair and left the office with a wave. She was not thrilled about that little gem of information she'd just received. But, the truth was she knew that whichever doctor they were going to deal with was most certainly going to have to be approved by House in the first place. There was no way he was going to let just anyone be his baby's obstetrician. That much was a given.

Coming in to the lobby she saw him standing by the Nurse's station in the clinic. Wondering how his day was going, she took detour and entered the clinic. He must have made some kind of comment to Nurse Brenda because she rolled her eyes at him and thrust a folder into his hand.

"Here is the lucky woman now, " House said with a dry smirk.

Nurse Brenda turned a sympathetic eye to her. "Congratulations?"

"Thank you?" Cate shrugged.

House pulled a lollipop out of the glass container on the desk and popped it in his mouth. Sucking on it for a second, he took it out of his mouth. He seemed like he was in a joking mood but his eyes were cold. "She doesn't believe we're married either."

Cate grinned at the woman and showed her her rings. "It's true."

Brenda shook her head and turned a pitiful eye on her. "Oh, God help you …"

House hobbled away from the desk towards exam room two. Following him, she touched her hand to his coat sleeve. "What's wrong? You're cranky."

He paused with his hand on the door knob. "I'm fine."

"No you're not, " she observed. "What gives?"

"Has Thirteen snuck up to see you yet, " he asked.

Cate shook her head. "No. Why?"

He shrugged and placed a fake smile on. "No reason. She wasn't us to pick up Sexy Kitty after work. I'll get her so you can just go straight home."

Cate nodded. "Okay. Are you sure you're alright?"

This time he really smiled at her. "I'm fine." His eyes softened. "You look tired. You should go home and take a nap."

She was indeed tired and could use some sleep. This was a lot more draining than she had thought. "I have two more sessions and then I'll head home."

"I'll see you later, " he said.

"Yes, " she responded turning to go away but then doubled back. "You didn't tell anyone did you? Besides Cuddy I mean?"

He shook his head. "Nope."

"Good, " she replied. Placing her hand over his, she squeezed his fingers. She wanted to kiss him goodbye and her lips twitched at the possibility but it just wouldn't be appropriate. He squeezed her fingers back reading her mind.

"I'll see you at home."

"Yes, see you at home, " she replied and left the clinic as he disappeared behind the exam room door. She couldn't wait to tell him about changing her name. She hoped that he would be happy about that and that maybe she could surprise him with something nice for a change. He couldn't always be the one with the upper hand at the grand gestures. _That just wouldn't' be fair…_


	3. Chapter 3: Pickles and Lima Beans

Sessions II – Nine Months

Chapter 3: Pickles and Lima Beans

House arrived at Thirteen's loft just shortly after 6:00pm. They had left the hospital much latter than they wanted too because their patient had taken a turn for the worse and required stabilization and more tests before they could go. So far so good, but the diagnosis eluded them. He was still bleeding into his intestines without any cause.

He trailed behind her up the really long flight of stairs one by one and was wincing in pain by the time he'd made it to the top. She turned back on him and inspected him for a moment with her sharp feline eyes.

"You alright?" she asked.

He grunted at her. "Fine. Just get a move on, " he grumbled gesturing for her to open her door. She did so taking her jingling key ring out from her coat pocket and unlocking three separate deadbolts. Funny, he didn't remember there being so many when he and Foreman had "visited" looking for "toxins" when her one-night lesbo-stand had gone awry earlier that Fall. "A little paranoid about intruders?"

She pushed the heavy door open. "Only one legged freaks with a penchant for snooping, " she quipped with a smirk. "Though considering he can't even make it up my stairs without a tank of oxygen, I really shouldn't be all that concerned huh?"

Leading him inside, she dumped her bag and coat onto the sofa. As soon as the door swung open, he could hear Sexy Kitty hollering her disapproval for being left alone all day. She came prancing into the large open room from the bedroom and jumped onto the back of the sofa. She mewed and chirped and wailed. The persnickety little cat was clearly displeased.

"Hey, Bitchy Bitch, Daddy's back so you can complain to him all about it instead of me for a change, " Thirteen spoke passing by the cat and going up a short level to her refrigerator for a beer. "Want one?"

"Nah, " he declined and moved over to the sofa holding his fingers out to pet Sexy Kitty. She bumped his hand with her furry head and nuzzled into his fingers. Thirteen stared at him like he had grown three heads as she pulled a long chug from her beer. _Yeah, ok, it was definitely odd that he didn't feel like a drink… but he really just didn't feel like a drink_. "Cate's waiting. We're going to do dinner…" he explained lamely, which of course was a lie. They weren't going anywhere tonight.

She nodded, satisfied with his answer and came back down three steps into the living room area. He looked around at her place taking in the surroundings. It was a pretty cool loft, lots of open space, humongous windows and she had quite a collection of large art on the walls. It was nice. "You know this awesome little skybox you've got here isn't going to be very user friendly one your symptoms present."

She looked around ruefully. "I know. But wasn't it you who said that I should still live life like I'm not going to die?"

He screwed up his face. "Doesn't sound like me."

She shrugged ignoring his denial. "Well, it was something to that effect." She looked at him for a long second and then cast her eyes down to the cat in between them who was thoroughly enjoying the two hands petting her lavishly. "I'm going to start the drug trial with Foreman next week."

He inhaled a breath and nodded. "Good."

"I'm going to need to be out of the office for a couple of hours a day, " she told him. "I'll still be able to work though."

He shrugged. "Ok."

"You don't mind?" Her eyes searched him almost expecting some kind of sarcastic retort.

"You've got to do what you've got to do, this is your health, your life, " he responded.

She regarded him for a moment and then smiled at him sadly. "Yes, it is."

He looked at her but refused to show pity. Huntington's was a despicable way to die. He wouldn't wish it on anyone. If they could find a drug that lessened the symptoms before the end, it would be a good thing. He just wasn't confident it was possible.

"Don't you think sleeping with Foreman is a conflict of interest for the drug trial though?" he remarked.

She took a decent sip of beer and leveled her eyes at him. "I've got to do what I've got to do, don't I?"

He tilted his head at her quizzically. "The sleeping with him part, the drug trial part or both?"

She shrugged and then smiled coyly. "No the sleeping with part is purely for my own pleasure… and _his_." She raised her eyebrows at him. "What the drug trial doesn't know won't hurt them."

"How do you know they're not going to find out?" he questioned dubiously.

"Because _you_ are not going to tell them, " she stated confidently.

"How can you be so sure of that?" he challenged.

"Because if you don't, then you have something to blackmail us with, " she replied. "It's win, win."

He considered her logic and he was impressed that she had him pegged. He had to give her credit, she'd come to know him pretty well over the years. He gave her a half-smile. "We'll see how it plays out."

Thirteen chuckled and then turned to go get the cat carrier from the corner under the dinning room table. Sexy Kitty took one look at the carrier and scurried up the front of his pea coat and buried her head under chin. He rolled his eyes and tried to pry the cat from his chest unsuccessfully. She was stuck to him like a briar in a wool sweater. He tried again to dislodge her to no avail and thought he might actually have to drive home like that.

Laughing at his predicament, Thirteen placed the carrier onto the sofa and peeled the cat from her tether. Once the cat was firmly trapped in her carrying crate, he blew the fur remnants from his face and clapped his hands together to rid himself of the fine, invisible ticklers. He really liked the cat, it was the fur in the nose that he couldn't tolerate.

"I'll go pack up the litter and the food and then I'll help you bring it all down to your truck, " she said and then disappeared into her bathroom.

Sexy Kitty began to howl. House closed his eyes and cursed. "It's a fifteen minute ride. Cool your jets." She wailed again louder. Not in the mood, he leaned in close to the front grate. "Mr. Wong from the Chinese food place down the street puts fuzzy annoying cats in his Chop Suey, keep it up and you're gonna end up as someone's take-out."

Sexy Kitty immediately shut up.

_Hmm… not the best display of ideal parenting. Yet highly successful. Mental note, probably something to not say directly to a child. Nine months, he had a long time to practice…_

HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

Cate was asleep on the couch when House made it home with his charge who was mercifully silent on the journey. He tried to be as quiet as possible as he entered the apartment but the second he crossed the threshold, Sexy Kitty began her tirade. Bemoaning her outcast state, she started to move around hurriedly in the carrier and he almost dropped it. He juggled the carrier, the two trash bags of food and litter box over his shoulder and his cane banged into the door jamb. Cate stirred and then sat up. _Shit_. He didn't want to wake her. She needed her rest. Groaning, he put the carrier down on the floor and opened the gate. The cat was out in a flash of orange fur slipping and sliding along the slick hardwood surface as she made her daring escape from her captor.

"Next time, we just leave her here to fend for herself, " he griped tossing the crate into the hall closet along with his fur covered coat and placing the litter box bag into the bathroom. "Just leave the cat food open, the toilet seat up, she drinks out of there anyway, some new clean cat litter and she'll be fine."

"Did she give Thirteen a problem, " Cate asked groggily.

"No. She's just a bitchy prima donna about being in the crate, " he muttered coming over to her and collapsing on the sofa. She leaned into him and hugged him sleepily. Placing a gently kiss on the top of her head, he wrapped his arms around her and sighed the tension of the day out of his body. It felt good to be back next to her. _His wife_. The concept alone was still very foreign to him. He had actually missed not spending the entire day with her. Apparently he had gotten used to that when they were in Jamaica and didn't realize it until now.

"Mmm, I'm glad you're home, " she purred snuggling into him deeper.

"How did you do today, " he asked, running his hands up and down her back feeling the warmth of her skin under her soft cashmere robe that she always wore.

"It was fine, I'm just tired, " she said. "I'm pregnant, not an invalid."

"I know, " he said defensively. "I'm just checking."

She chuckled and let out a little involuntary yawn. "It's something I'll have to get used to. That's all."

"Tomorrow you need to get on pre-natal vitamins. I'll write you a prescription, " he offered.

"I made an appointment with my OB/GYN, " she said quietly. "I have an appointment next week."

"Next week, " he questioned. "Who?"

"Um… he's at the hospital. I've been going to him for years, " she said.

"Who?" he repeated a little more forcefully. Her evasiveness was making him uneasy.

She sat up and looked him directly in the eye. "Sheldon."

"Oh, you've got to be fucking kidding me. No. Not him."

"Greg, I've been going to him for years, " she stated. "I know him and I trust him."

"The guy's a moron, " he retorted. "And I don't trust him."

"Please, you aren't going to trust anybody, " she told him. "So it doesn't really matter if you like him or not."

"It's not that I don't like him. It's that I _loathe_ him. He's a fucking moron."

"Too bad, " she stated.

"And he hates me, " he added.

"He's a professional, I'm sure he'll be able to handle it, " she said. "Just like you will."

House shook his head. "No."

"Yes."

"You don't need an OB, I'll be your doctor, " he insisted.

She flat out laughed at him. "Uh…No."

"What, I've delivered babies before, " he argued. "I deal with pregnant women all the time in the clinic. It's a cake walk really."

"No."

He eyed her but she crossed her arms stubbornly over her ample, oh so voluptuous chest. She had to know what that was doing to him. He bat his eyelashes at her and pouted. "Please. I really, really, really, triple dog dare… Hate. That. Guy."

"Sweetheart, you feel that way about all of the doctors at the hospital that aren't hand picked by you, " she replied with her hand consolingly on his cheek which caused her to lean forward a bit and he had a perfect view of her delightful cleavage. _Oh so nice_…

"I hate the ones that are hand picked by me too. They're just slightly less moronic."

"Too bad, we're going with Sheldon."

"Maybe you could come over here and convince me, " he suggested with a wink and a tug on her hand.

She resisted and pouted back at him. "I'm hungry."

Damn. Shot down. His ego deflated and he sighed. He couldn't very well starve his baby mama, now could he? "What do you want to eat?"

She smiled triumphantly and ran her hand up his shirt front. _Oh, she was good. And he was so easy._ "Could you make me some soup?"

"Soup? That's it? That's all you want?" He was ready to make her a full five course meal if she'd asked him.

She shook her head and grimaced. "I haven't been able to keep anything down all day. Which is another reason why I think I'm so tired."

"Nah, it's all the little parasite's doing, " he said hoisting himself off the comfort of the couch.

She sat back against the leather cushion, in his spot, he might add and frowned at him. "Don't call our baby a parasite."

He rolled his eyes at her exaggeratedly. "Okay, fetus…"

She fixed him with a pointed stare.

"It's a fetus until it's born, " he stipulated.

"It's a fetus until 26 weeks when it's viable, " she countered.

"It's only viable if it's lungs are fully developed, 26 weeks doesn't guarantee that, " he shot back. "Until then, it's connected to Mommy like a coma patient to a heart/lung machine therefore a fetus or parasite."

"Our baby is not a fetus or a parasite, an alien or whatever you want to call it. It's a _ba-by_, " she sated matter-of-factly.

He gave her a lopsided smile. "Someone's sure changed their tune since yesterday."

She shrugged at him and then smiled. "If we're going to do this then we have to commit to it."

"Yeah, " he nodded. She was right. "Then we're committed."

She smiled happily and placed her hand on her belly. "Hungry. Baby needs food."

He shook his head at her and laughed before hobbling into the kitchen. Sexy Kitty came out of her hiding place and joined Cate on the sofa. He could hear her cooing sweetly at the cat welcoming her home. The way she was with that cat told him that she was going to be a loving devoted mother and that made his heart squeeze with something that he'd never quite felt before. It was little scary. So he promptly ignored it and proceeded to open a can of vegetable soup and dump it into a sauce pan on the stove.

"Sweetheart, " she called to him. "Could you make some grilled cheese to go with the soup?"

He chuckled and opened the fridge to see if they had any cheese. He knew the soup wasn't going to be enough, her appetite had been on hyper-drive for the past week. There was some deli style American cheese and some bread that she'd thrown in there to keep while they were away. She was in luck. "Sure thing, Babe."

"And some pickles?"

_Pickles, already?_ He looked further into the refrigerator. "Yup, pickles." He gagged and shook it off. He really, really hated pickles.

"Could you put them into the sandwich?" she asked sheepishly.

He cringed and looked out to her over the edge of the fridge door. Still in his spot, she was lying with Sexy Kitty on her belly sleeping contently as she pet her while she watched TV. "That's absolutely disgusting, you know."

She shrugged her shoulders and held out her hands as if to say 'go figure'.

He nodded succinctly. Yep, pickles inside grilled cheese with Campbell's Alphabet Vegetable soup. _Dinner of Champions._

A short while later, House brought dinner back to the couch and they ate watching his TiVOed episodes of General Hospital from the week they were away. He tried not to watch her eat, but it was like watching a car crash. He was horrified but just couldn't look away. He hoped that pickles in grilled cheese was just a random desire and not a sign of what disgusting cravings were to come. Oh, god… she dipped it in the soup. Things normally didn't gross him out, but pickles… they were his proverbial straw.

"So what did the team say when you told them we got married, " she asked picking out a pickle with her fingers and dropping it into her mouth.

He wrinkled his nose and then shook his head. "They didn't believe me."

"What?" she questioned with a laugh.

"They didn't believe me, " he said again, this time he felt like he was confessing to his mother because he was ashamed to actually tell her the truth.

"For real?"

He nodded.

"Why?"

"Apparently, I lie, " he grumbled.

"Yeah. But why would you lie about that, " she insisted.

"I know, " he bellowed.

She snickered and then covered her mouth with her hand when he glared at her. "I'm sorry. It is kind of funny… but… also really terrible," she amended gravely after he slid her a look. "How could they think such a horrible thing about you?"

He rolled his eyes at her sarcasm. "Fine. I lie, I cheat, I'm an all around asshole. But, I would never lie about that."

She gave him a sympathy frown and rested her hand on his arm. "I know you wouldn't. If it makes you feel any better, everyone believed me." He gave her a doubtful look. "They offered their condolences and they think I'm insane, but they believed me."

"Oh yeah, that makes me feel just ducky, " he returned.

"Well, it really doesn't mater what they think, " she contested drinking her soup.

"I know that. And I don't give a shit what people think. It just pisses me off, " he fumed. Kneeling closer to him, she placed her mug on the coffee table and came back to move a piece of hair away from his forehead. She smiled down at him lovingly and he made a face. "You should be able to celebrate your wedding not have to endure jokes and rude comments because you married me."

"I don't give shit what people think either, " she told him. "I'd marry you again in the middle of the hospital lobby for everyone to see. I love you and nothing anyone can say to me is going to change that. So fuck 'em."

"Fuck them, " he repeated. She leaned over and kissed him gently on the lips. He drew back and cringed. "You smell like pickles. I can't deal…"

Laughing, she picked up her mug of soup and took a sip. "You better hope it doesn't turn into a major craving."

"No you better hope, because that's the first and last time I make you a sandwich with pickles in, on or any where near it, " he threatened lightly. "I'll do other stuff but not that. That's where I draw the line."

"Oh, look, " she exclaimed happily and picked out a vegetable from the bottom of her mug and held it out in her palm for him to see. He squinted his eyes at it to determine that it was a wrinkled up grayish green lima bean. "It's a bean that's the size of our baby."

He took her hand and popped the bean into his mouth. She gasped and stared at him horrified. He swallowed with an exaggerated gulp worthy of Hannibal Lecter and she grunted at him in disgust. Laughing at her reaction, he pulled her down to him and kissed the side of her face. "Wanna go do an ultrasound to see the real thing?"

She blinked at him, her face uncertain. "Right now?"

He nodded. "Yeah. I'm the fastest Ultra Sound tech in the East. Plus, it's the perks of being married to a doctor who doesn't give a shit how expensive diagnostic tests are. Besides, it doesn't really cost anything if I do it myself because we own the…."

"Yes, shut up, let's go, " she interjected jumping off the sofa. He chuckled at her enthusiasm and followed her as she went to get changed. He paused for a minute at the closet door before getting his coat. He was little nervous all of a sudden. Seeing the embryo growing inside her would make it all the more real. He was nervous _and_ excited by that prospect. And that was scary.

_A/N: I'm trying to keep him in character while he deals with all of this newness. I've always believed that there is this deep, very meticulously hidden part of him that really does want to be loving and close, but that side is uncontrollable and therefore terrifies him. We've seen tiny, minute glimpses of it in some episodes but not often enough. I want him to be conflicted. He should be because that's who he is. But I also want him to be confused by his excitement about it, as well. This sequel poses to be an in depth psychological study I fear. But I guess that's a good thing. So we'll see. Thanks to all who have hopped on this train for the next leg in our journey. If you have some time, let me know what you think… Enjoy!_


	4. Chapter 4: One Crazy Night

Sessions II: Nine Months

Chapter 4: One Crazy Night

"Ah, cold, " Cate complained in a hushed whisper.

"Sorry, " House muttered equally as quiet as he finished squirting the gel onto the tanned skin under her belly button.

They were tucked away in the back corner of the ER in a somewhat private area behind a curtain, much to House's displeasure. They had spent the better part of an hour trying to locate an ultrasound machine that wasn't either already occupied or broken and out for repairs. He really was going to have to talk to Management about that. About six weeks pregnant and Cuddy was already slacking in her duties as hospital administrator. He had briefly contemplated breaking into one of the OB/GYN's offices but he decided against it since he was going to need at least one of them and their useless, unnecessary services in the coming months. He was definitely going to have to talk Cate out of this Sheldon nonsense, because that was just a disaster waiting to happen.

They had snuck into the ER and into the private area under the radar of Cameron who was busy stitching up a guy that had put his fist through a window during a hockey game at a local sports bar. House really didn't want to do this here because he didn't want to have to explain their presence in the ER if Cameron had caught them, but the look of disappointment on Cate's face that she wasn't going to get to see the baby tonight was enough to make him do an ultrasound in Grand Central Station if she wanted. Besides, he was a little curious himself.

"It will get warm in a couple of seconds, " he assured her as he grabbed the transducer probe and placed it on her stomach. The heart beat immediately sounded loudly out of the speakers startling them and he reached over to turn it down so only they could hear. The tempo was fast, 154 beats a minute. He took a breath and could hear his own heartbeat echoing a similarly rapid pace in his own ears. This was a little surreal doing an echo on his own baby. He slid his eyes in Cate's direction and she gave him a nervous smile. She was already welling up with tears as she reached out for his free hand. Her fingers trembled as she hung onto him while he moved the probe to search for the little bean that would grow to be their child.

The empty black space of the uterus came into focus and he clicked the button to focus the sound waves into the area where the baby would most likely be implanted. His breath caught in his throat when he saw it. There it was in black and white. A tiny little hourglass shaped blob.

Cate let out a little whimper and covered her mouth with her hand. She tried to sit up to look closer and he moved the screen a bit in her direction so she could see better.

"Oh Greg, " she cried.

He cleared his throat and took another breath. Not really trusting himself to speak, he just looked at her and realized he had a ridiculous little smile on his face. He shook his head and worked his face into a more serious frown more befitting of his notorious personality. This was no great mystery. He did this kind of stuff every day. But, yet somehow, this was completely different. _This_ was pretty amazing.

"Look, you can see the little arms sticking out, " she said pointing at the screen and then she pouted adorably. "I can't tell which side is the head?"

"The right, " he said touching the screen. "These little black things are the eyes." He could barely see them without his glasses but they were definitely there.

"How big is it, " she asked unable to tear her eyes away from the image on the screen. Her face was an image of pure amazement and delight, and that filled his chest with pride.

"About an inch, " he told her. _God, an inch long… That was so fucking small_. But, it was indeed a baby. A tiny, miniature lima bean of a baby. And it was his. And hers of course, but it was _his_. That was pretty cool. He pressed the button to take a snap shot of the screen and the machine came to life printing out a copy. Reaching for the piece of photo paper, he grabbed it out of the printer and handed it to her. "Baby's first picture."

Cate sat up and took the photo in her hands. He watched her run her finger along the delicate outline of the silhouette as if she were imagining that she could really touch it. When she looked up at him, she dropped the photo in her lap and grabbed his face between her hands resting her forehead against his. She was crying, but they were tears of pure unadulterated joy. She kissed both of his cheeks and giggled in excitement. Her elation was infectious. Ironically, he felt like he was floating on a cloud. It was a little akin to being on LSD but without the psychedelic quality, not that he'd really tell her that, but he was feeling ridiculously good. And freakishly happy. He was going to be a dad, a terrifying thought in any religion but, a fact nonetheless. Gregory House, destroyer of all that was happy and sentimental and irrational, was going to be a dad.

"Our baby, " she whispered to him.

He felt himself smile involuntarily. "Our baby."

She brought her mouth to his and pressed a kiss as delicate as a whisper onto his lips. He had never felt such a sheer sense of home and family. He was amazed and bewildered but being with her made it all so clear. She made everything feel right. She always did.

Just then, the curtain swung open with a metal scrape of the bearings in the ceiling and they jumped back apart from each other startled by the sudden intrusion on their very private moment. They both swung their heads to see who was there. Cameron stood frozen in her tracks staring at them stunned.

"Oh…" she gasped. The expression on her pale face was surprised to say the least.

"House?" She opened her mouth and then shut it looking confused. "Cate?" Her eyes flicked back and forth between them a few times then they hit on the view screen clearly visible in the space between them. Her eyes and her mouth both went wide. "Oh…"

Clamping her mouth shut, her facial expression changed instantaneously from surprise to realization and landed firmly on barely contained heartache. She recovered her sense of professionalism and set her jaw firmly. "I was just…"

"Leaving, " he snapped at her. He knew it. He knew that she would somehow ruin this for them.

She narrowed her eyes at him in disgust and visibly prepared for a battle. "I need this area for an incoming head trauma."

Immediately, he lowered his eyes and backed down. He couldn't really argue with head trauma. "We'll be done in a minute."

"Fine." She gave him a clipped nod. "Congratulations, Cate." Sweeping the curtain shut with a snap as she left, House thought the whole track might come down on top of them from the force of her departure.

House looked at Cate and saw that she had snapped her mouth shut on her unspoken 'thank you' and his fury over Cameron's misplaced jealousy burned hot again. Pissed off anew by the whole circumstance that they had to be in the ER to do this, he whipped out five tissues from the box on the cart and thrust them at Cate to clean the jelly off her stomach. _Fuck_. This was not how he wanted to do this.

Cate eyed him carefully as she wiped her skin clean over the waistband of her yoga pants. "We'll I guess that means it's not a secret anymore."

"It will be all over the hospital by morning, " he muttered shaking his head. _Fuck_. Couldn't they have just had a couple of more minutes? They would have been out of there and Cameron would have been none the wiser.

Cate shrugged and touched her hand to his to calm him. "It doesn't matter. It is what it is."

He handed over her sweatshirt that she put on and zipped up over her tee. "What it is, is that it's fucking annoying that we had to come all the way down here to find an ultrasound that works." He let out a groan and pushed the cart aside away from the exam bed. "And now I have to deal with the Queen of the ER's righteous indignation for taking up her valuable space."

"That's not what she's irritated about." Cate stood and placed the picture into her purse before putting on her down ski coat. "You two need to sit down and talk."

Coming about with his cane in his hand, he stared at her. "About what?"

"About this unresolved shit that's hanging in the air between you, " she said drawing a circling curly-q in the air with her pointer finger apparently to indicate the 'shit', as she put it, swirling around.

He scoffed. "I don't owe her anything." He leaned on his cane and bent his head to look her in the eye. "Why the hell doesn't it piss you off that she's jealous of you?"

Cate stood tall and looked him straight in the eye. "Because, House, I'm the one who you wooed and dated. I'm the one who you asked to move in. I'm the one you had sex with. I'm the one you married and I'm the one who's having your baby. _Not her_." She stepped closer to him to emphasis her point. "Sure, do I want to gouge her eyes out with a very dull object sometimes when I see that 'look', you're damn right I do, but she's my friend and I know what it means to love someone who's never gonna love you back. It sucks and it's heartbreaking. But the only way she's going to get over it is if you talk to her." He opened his mouth to say something and she held her finger up to him to shut him up. "Ah, I'm not done… she needs closure. I don't give a shit if you don't believe in it and think it's stupid, but the only way this will be put to rest once and for all is if you talk to her."

House rolled his eyes dramatically and gave her a slack jawed, bored to tears look. "I'm not making any promises."

"Fine. Don't talk to her," she said with stubborn indifference. "But if you don't, Cameron's going to be that wrinkled up bitter lonely woman at our child's First Communion party."

_What?!_ _Where the fuck did that come from?_ He shook his head at her to see if he heard her right. "First Communion party? We're so not doing that."

Cate waved her hand at him. "Whatever, you get my point." Adjusting her hair over her coat and swinging her purse over her shoulder, she grabbed the curtain and stopped before opening it. "This will go on for years, if you don't settle it."

"Why do I have to be the one to settle it, " he complained like a child. "She's the one who has the problem, not me."

"Because you have never told her how you felt about her, " she said. "At least not for real."

"What difference is it going to make if I tell her that, " he argued.

"Because she'll know that you had feelings and that it wasn't all in her own mind, " she explained.

"But I didn't, " he objected.

"You did, " she insisted. "You just weren't emotionally ready and she was just too naïve. And you knew that and you didn't want to hurt her because of it."

House frowned at Cate. He looked at the ceiling and took a few breaths because what she was saying rang very true in his own mind and he hated that she could read that so clearly in him. She had seen through his evasions and lies about it way back in the beginning when they talked on her office sofa. Right from the start, she could always see through his lies and she never let him get away with it. It angered him that she knew he had had some feelings for Cameron so long ago. But that was exactly the point; it was a long time ago yet Cameron continued to dredge it up keeping it at the surface where no one could totally be rid of it. He didn't feel that way anymore. What little there was had died years ago. Cate was the One. And now more than ever, he didn't want for her to feel like she was not the one true love of his life just because she knew he'd once had some small feelings about a woman who was her friend and colleague.

"What would I even say to her, " he remarked.

"Tell her the truth, " she answered simply. She raised an eyebrow at him and swung open the curtain indicating that she was done talking about this.

"Tell her the truth, " he muttered following her through the maze of curtained areas to the nurse's station. _Yeah, like that was so easy_…

The sirens of the ambulance approached as the bus came to a halt at the door and the EMTs wheeled a patient into the ER in a hurry.

"Seventeen year old female, head trauma to back of skull, BP 135/90 Pulse 72. Pupils non reactive. Physical trainer said she had a seizure after she hit her head when she fell…"

"Dr. House!" came a shriek from two voices behind him. He cringed and turned his back a little further to the door as if he hadn't heard them. "DR. HOUSE! Oh my god, you have to help us. You have to save her, " they cried.

"Greg, " Cate urged.

Reluctantly, he turned around. To his surprise, the voices belonged to his yeasty cheerleaders. Numbers one and two. They were still in their cheering uniform except nothing was perky about them now. No right now, they were terrified and devastated.

"Oh, my god! We were doing a stunt and she just fell…" Chelsea cried.

"Her head hit the floor and made this horrible cracking sound…" Kara relayed equally as upset.

"She just lay there…"

"It was like she was dead…"

They launched themselves into his arms and cried into his jacket. He froze. He couldn't move or push them away because they had his arms pinned by his sides and his cane was jammed against his thigh. They continued to sob in hysterics. He didn't know what to do. He was no good at the weeping consoling thing. He was at a complete loss.

"Okay, " he mumbled. "It'll be ok."

Taking pity on him, Cate placed her hand on one of the girl's backs to soothe her. "Come on girls, why don't we go and sit down and you can tell me all about what happened and Dr. House can go and take a look at your friend. Okay?" Her eyes caught his and he nodded, grateful for her level-headed control. The girls acquiesced and peeled themselves off of him wrapping their arms around each other for support.

"She's seizing again… " came the call from the curtain. _Fuck_… Yeasty Cheerleader Number Three needed him. He took his coat off and tossed it to Cate.

"Go, " she ordered. "I'll take care of the girls and see where her parents are."

He smiled ruefully at her. This was not how he wanted to spend his night. Especially not this one. "I love you."

She smiled back. "I know."

He stood and looked at his wife, torn and reluctant to leave her. She was so beautiful and so good for him.

"Go work your magic Superman, " she told him and turned, making the decision for him as she left him to go tend to the girls.

Quickly, he turned and limped into the curtained area where Cameron was working in a frenzy with the nurses to stabilize the girl. Cameron glanced at him with a grateful look and started to list the patient stats… They fell into a rhythm like they hadn't been apart, separated by three floors and a lot of murky water under the bridge for the last two years. And he was loath to admit the he really missed working side by side with her. He missed whatever it was that they shared.

_Almost_…

HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

Cate sat with the girls calming them down and getting as much information as she could from them about what had taken place when Amanda had fallen.

They had finally stopped crying enough to be able to speak coherently as they sat in the waiting chairs off to the side of them main patient area of the ER. She had gotten the girls some water from the doctors' lounge and they were calmly sipping their drinks further settling into the reality of their situation.

"Why don't you explain to me what happened before Amanda fell, " Cate suggested gently.

Kara, the petite Asian girl spoke first. She seemed to be the more level headed of the two. She was very bright and a little spunky and Cate could see why House liked her enough to give her a job as his little office assistant. Chelsea, the blonde, seemed very sweet, but maybe a little flighty. "We were doing the halftime routine at the basketball game. We have this pyramid stunt where one girl is pushed up onto the shoulders of another girl and then lifts her leg up into an arabesque."

"Amanda is the one to do the arabesque, " Chelsea said. "She has the most beautiful line."

Kara half smiled and continued. "Chelsea is her spotter and another girl who's a little stronger is the one she mounts on her shoulder like this." She indicated with her hand where Amanda's foot would have gone onto the other girls shoulder and trapezius.

"She went up fine and planted her foot solid, " Chelsea explained. "She had her balance and went into the arabesque but then all of a sudden she just fell."

"Did this other girl drop her, " Cate asked.

"No, Vicki totally had her, " Chelsea said. "It was like one minute she was up then she was down."

"And what did you see, " Cate turned to Kara.

"I was doing a flying basket catch in the back of the pyramid, " she told her.

Cate shook her head. "What is that?"

"It's where two girls throw me up high, I do a spilt in the air and they catch me in a basket with their arms, " she explained.

"So you didn't see it happen, " Cate surmised.

"No. I actually saw the whole thing because I was behind her, " Kara told her. "I saw her go up. She was planted right where she should have, just like we've done a hundred times before. She went into the arabesque but when she was in it her head rolled back and she toppled right off the back, like her leg buckled out from under her."

Cate tuned back to Chelsea, "Did you see her eyes? Did anything weird, different happen with them?"

"One eye just looked a little like she blew out her contact but I'm not really sure, " the blonde relayed.

Cate nodded. "When she hit the floor, you said it sounded like a crack?"

Chelsea's eyes brimmed with tears. "It was like a horrible thud."

"Had she been dizzy at all, " she asked.

Both girls shook their heads. "No, not that she said."

Suddenly there was a commotion coming from the nurse's station. A man argued and the admitting officer was trying unsuccessfully to calm him down.

"Where's my daughter, " the man's voice bellowed out loudly.

All eyes turned to the man who was making a scene. Cate stared at him taking a closer look.

"Oh God, " she muttered to herself. Head Trauma Cheerleader's dad was Detective Michael Tritter. _Oh, this was not going to bode well…_


	5. Chapter 5: Tongue Lashing

Sessions II: Nine Months

Chapter 5: Tongue Lashing

Cate took a deep breath and closed her eyes preparing herself to deal with Det. Tritter. She excused herself from the girls and made her way over to where he was arguing with the nurse who was trying unsuccessfully to clam him down.

"Excuse me, " Cate interrupted. "Detective Tritter remember me, I'm Dr. Cate Milton, Don Milton's daughter." She purposely left off the 'House' from her new name just to make the situation easier considering the adversarial past between the two men. Besides, she'd never said it to anyone yet and she didn't really want Michael Tritter to be the first one she tried it out on.

Tritter turned around agitatedly, his small bead like eyes raking over her. "I know who you are. Where is my daughter? What is wrong with her?"

Cate softened her look to one of professional compassion that she normally used to calm her patients. "Your daughter had an accident. She hit her head and they're working on her right now, " she explained gently.

He shifted and placed his hands on his waist forcing his tweed sport coat open on the sides. "What is wrong with her?"

"She's suffered a head trauma and they have to stabilize her so they can run some tests, " she said. "Why don't you come and sit until there's some news?" She held out her hand towards his arm but he swung his arm away and she backed off.

"I don't want to sit, " he objected loudly. "I want to see my daughter."

"You can't see her until they stabilize her, " she told him. "Standing around here isn't going to make that happen any faster."

"Michael! Oh my god, what happened, " a woman's voice came from behind them as she rushed over to him her short heels clicking erratically against the tile floor. A well dressed man in a pair of khaki slacks, expensive Italian shoes and a crisp dress shirt under his wool jacket followed in tow.

Tritter turned around to glare at the woman. Cate stood back and observed the scene, intrigued that Tritter knew this woman. Cate guessed that she was most likely Amanda's mother; she had the same dark, glossy hair and round face. The thought amused her as they would have made the most incongruous couple; she was all polish and he was gruff and burly. The well-dressed, more compatible looking man was probably the new boyfriend or husband.

"Nancy, where the hell were you?" Tritter demanded forcefully. "Why weren't you at the game with her? Do you even know what happened?"

"We were in a meeting Mike, " the man defended. "Nancy ended the meeting as soon as we got the call."

"Did I ask you Steve, " Tritter rounded on him with angry eyes. "I was talking to my daughter's mother not her pompous new husband." _Husband_. Well, that clarifies that question. _Interesting little family drama_.

Nancy's eyes flashed. "Back off Michael. This is not the time or the place. Please, just tell me what is going on with Amanda?"

Taking her cue, Cate stepped forward. "Your daughter has suffered a head trauma."

"Excuse me, who are you?" the woman whirled around and snapped at her.

Cate plastered a tight smile on her face. _Ooo, this one was pleasant_… "I'm Dr. Milton. Your daughter has suffered a head trauma and is now experiencing seizures…"

"You didn't say anything about seizures?" Tritter spun around on her.

"I didn't get a chance to, " she defended herself and took a breath. "If you could just go and sit in the waiting area, I can go and find out what the doctors have found."

"Fine," Tritter barked.

"Please, " the Amanda's mother said impatiently. She appeared to be used to getting her own way.

Cate left them and went toward the curtained area where House and Cameron were working to stabilize the girl. As she approached, the team opened the curtain and hurriedly wheeled the bed out of the space. Cate sidestepped them to let them pass. House saw her and limped over with his weight resting heavily on his cane. She covered the short distance quickly and met him halfway. "How is she?"

He scratched at his forehead in frustration. "Her brain is swelling from the fall and she keeps seizing," he said.

"They're taking her for a CT now," Cameron said coming up behind him.

"The girls said that her head rolled back in the middle of the stunt before she fell, " Cate told them hoping that it might be of some help. "And something weird was going on with her eye."

"You think a seizure caused the fall, " House asked her and then gave her a curious face as he contemplated this information.

"It could be, " Cameron agreed. "It could explain why she's continuing with the seizures."

"Which means that the fall has nothing to do with it, " he surmised.

Cameron's face lit up. "It could be…"

"No! Absolutely not! Keep him away from my daughter, " Tritter shouted coming back through the patient area like a steam roller.

House turned his head and rolled his head back in disbelief. "Oh you got to be kidding me! What the hell is he doing here?"

"Yeah, about that, " Cate treaded lightly then leveled her eyes at him. "Tritter's her father."

"What?" They both exclaimed.

"Tritter procreated?!" House looked bewildered.

Cameron looked at her. "And how do you know Tritter?"

Crossing her arms over her chest, Cate shook her head. "Long story."

Tritter stalked toward them with Amanda's mother and step-father in toe. "You keep your hands away from my little girl." A couple of male nurses began watching the scene, alerted by the commotion and standing on guard for any trouble. Cate was secretly thankful. She had worked with two of them and watched them take down a psychotic on meth in two point five seconds flat. They could handle Tritter like he was a rag doll if need be.

House held up his hands and shrugged broadly yet, stood his ground unintimidated by the larger man. "Fine. I won't touch our daughter, " he said. He had that look of the devil in his eye and Cate was a little worried. "But just so you know, she'll probably die and it'll be your fault because you're an idiot."

Nancy gasped. "My little girl's going to die? Oh Steven, " she fell into her husband's arms with a hysterical sob.

Cameron stepped forward then and directed her attention to the neatly pressed couple. "I'm Dr. Cameron. What Dr. House means is that we need to do some tests on Amanda to determine what is causing her seizures."

Cate slid House a glance. "Couldn't help yourself, huh?"She murmured out of the corner of her mouth. He gave her an innocent smirk and she rolled her eyes.

"I don't want that son of a bitch anywhere near my daughter. He's a drug addict and a criminal, " Tritter shot at him pointing his finger accusingly at House._ What? How dare he? Now Cate was pissed_.

"Addict maybe, criminal no, " House added fuel to the fire.

Stalking forward Cate raised her finger and pointed at him squarely in front of his chest but careful not to touch him lest he cry assault. "Hey, asshole. You're daughter is in the ER because she had an unexplained seizure that caused her to fall and hit her head _hard_. Her brain is swelling and she continues to have seizures. So unless your daughter has a history of epilepsy…" she looked at all three parents but none of them confirmed. "I didn't think so… Then you need him. So unfortunately for you, Mikey, my husband is the best doctor in any of the hospitals around. If you want Amanda to have any chance of getting through this then he's the best shot you've got so I think you owe him a little respect. You're in our territory now so back the fuck up before I call security and have your Neanderthal ass thrown out of here."

Everyone around her stood in stunned silence. Tritter fumed and paced back and forth in front of her while his ex-wife and her upper-middle class husband looked like they had been caught up in a deranged freak show. Cameron clamped her mouth shut and slid Cate a little surprised glance evidently impressed by her fierceness to protect House.

"Now _that's_ my little woman," House smirked and Cate rolled her eyes at him. Leave it to him to completely undermine all of her hard work.

Tritter looked like he might haul off and hit House but thought better of it and held himself in check.

"Can you fix her, " Nancy pleaded with House.

"She's not a car, " House remarked impertinently.

"Can you make her better?" the husband clarified with marked patience and an air for business negotiation.

House nodded, his face turning serious. "If I can figure out what's causing the problem..."

"Dr. House is the best diagnostician in the country, " Cameron told them. "He will find what is wrong with your daughter."

"Um, too high expectations," he muttered out of the corner of his mouth to her.

Ignoring him, Cameron continued. "We're admitting Amanda right now and taking her for a CAT scan, " she explained to them. "We will have a better idea what's causing this in an hour or so."

Steve nodded and rubbed his hands on his wife's shoulders. "Thank you Doctors." He ushered Nancy over to the waiting area where the cheerleaders were eagerly waiting and obviously eavesdropping on the hullabaloo. When they saw them approach, they immediately got up and hugged the woman beginning to cry again. From what it looked like, they we're relaying the story of what had happened to their poor friend Amanda.

Tritter took out a piece of gum and stuck it in his mouth as he stalked back and forth like a caged animal. "I swear to God House, if anything happens to my little girl, I'm coming after you."

"Bring it on, Big Boy, " House taunted.

Cate pressed her hand to his chest and glared at him to shut up. "No. That's enough. There will be none of this stupidity. You _need_ him, " she turned her glare at Tritter, " and he will do everything he can to help Amanda. Nobody is coming after anyone." When House slumped slightly in reigned in bravado, she removed her hand from his chest and gave him a tiny nod. The corner of his mouth twitched into a frustrated frown but he remained quiet. Satisfied that he wasn't going to push Tritter's buttons further, Cate turned to Tritter. "Look, Michael, I'm sorry that this happened to Amanda, but she's in the best possible care. Please trust that."

Tritter stared at her for a long moment working his jaw as he ferociously chewed his gum. He snorted through his nose a few times like a bull but then visibly backed off and shook his head. "I can't believe you married him Catie."

Cameron shot House a questioning glance. Cate couldn't tell if it was more because she was surprised to hear that they were married or if it was because Tritter had called her 'Catie'. She huffed to herself think it was probably more about the former rather than the latter. House angrily rolled his eyes and stepped around Cate coming up to his full height, despite that fact that Tritter was a few inches taller and had about thirty pounds on him. "She's _my wife_, you cock sucker. I don't give a shit that you knew her way back before your testes dropped. Don't ever call her 'Catie' again. She's Dr. Milton to you."

Cate stepped around them and placed herself in between the two men who have been itching to come to blows for years now. House made an aggravated snort, irritated that she'd stepped in front of him _again_ and Tritter grunted. "Actually, the name is Dr. Milton-_House_, Dr. Cate Milton-House."

Cate felt House put his hand on her shoulder and gave her a gentle squeeze telling he had heard her message loud and clear and that he liked it very much indeed. Cameron stood by and watched the two of them with veiled confusion. She was supremely befuddled by the turn of events. This had been a quite a day of revelations for her. Cate almost felt bad for her. It was a lot to take in all at once, but then again, welcome to her world.

Tritter shook his head. "You're old man has gone soft in his old age. Twenty years ago he would have never stood for this."

Cate set her chin high and locked eyes with her childhood nemesis. "My father wants to see me happy. And I assure you, Michael, I am _very_ happy."

"And on that note, I'm taking _my wife_ home." House turned to Cameron. "Page me if something changes. The Doctors House are out!"

House placed his hand in the small of her back and ushered her over to the Nurse's station where their coats and her purse were. Once they had their jackets on and were ready to go, House suddenly pulled her into an embrace and planted a kiss on her lips that took her breath away. The passion of his kiss ignited a fire in her and her skin tingled with an electricity that made her wish they were not standing in the middle of the emergency room full of people because she would have ripped his clothes off if she could. The kiss ended. Breathless and weak, her eyes found his, stormy and dark but alight with a pride that touched her to her core. He smiled down at her. "You amaze me more and more everyday, _Mrs. House_."

_Mrs. House_… Now that was something Cate could get used to very quickly.

HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

Cate hugged the pillow underneath her face and watched House as he traced invisible circles on her bare back and up her shoulder. He had a lazy smile on his face as he watched her. He looked content but there was a little tinge of mischief wrinkling the corners of his eyes. Cate closed her eyes as he trailed his finger down the curve of her back drew a squiggle in the center. Slowly opening them she looked back at him. Raising his eyebrows at her, he urged her to guess what it was.

"Do it again, " she chuckled. He lightly touched his finger to her skin and traced out the design again. "Three?"

"Nope, " he smiled. This time he drew it a little more sharply.

"Ah I get it, M, " she said. He nodded and then scribed a straight line with a curve and another angled straight line. "R?"

"Uh huh." He drew an S and a dot.

Cate smiled. "Mrs?"

His finger wrote out his last name in his angled blocky scrawl.

"_Mrs. House_," Cate replied wistfully.

"Dr. Milton-House, " he said brushing her hair back over her ear where he placed a warm, soft kiss. "I like the way that sounds." He leaned back against his pillow, snuggling into it as his eyes watched her intently.

"Me too, " she agreed with a smile. "It sounds nice."

"I didn't think you were going to change your name, " he remarked holding her eyes with his gaze.

She smiled modestly against her pillow and pulled his hands to her lips. "I guess I'm a little old fashioned. Ever since I was a little girl, I wanted to take my husband's name."

"Then maybe I am too, " he said with a chuckle.

"A little girl? Or traditional?" She giggled.

He rolled his eyes at her. "The T-word."

"What makes you say that, " she asked tracing the long lines of his fingers with her middle finger.

He shrugged. "I don't know. I guess I never thought I'd marry anyone, so I never expected that someone would take my name."

"And now that you are?"

He laughed. "It's stupid and caveman-ish but… I feel big and manly, " he admitted with a waggle of his eyebrows. "It's an advertisement that you belong to me and only me."

She chuckled and kissed the backs of his knuckles smelling the warmth of his skin against her nose. "I'll never admit it outside of our bed, because I have my independent woman rep to protect, but I like it when you get caveman-ish. I find it really sexy."

Laughing outloud, he sat up and pulled her under him by her hips. "You know what was really sexy?"

"What?" she asked curiously looking up into his face.

"When you got up in Tritter's face all hot and bothered to defend me," he said. "You are so incredibly hot when you get like that. Usually it's directed at me, but it's really, _really_ _hot_ when all of your fiery temper is directed at someone else." He growled at her and leaned over to love bite her neck. She squealed against the back of his head as his beard tickled her sensitive skin. Rolling her flat onto her back he dragged his lips down the pulse point in her neck scratching her with the jagged scruff and igniting her flames of desire for him so soon again.

"Don't leave marks, " she admonished halfheartedly not really moving to make him stop. "Ooh. I um… have to work …mmmm, tomorrow …" His tongue was working little circles around the shell of her ear.

"Then I'll move to place that only I can see, " he said nuzzling her softly with his nose along the length of her neck. As he inhaled her scent, his breath stole the warmth from her skin and left a trail of electrified gooseflesh in its wake. She let out an involuntary moan because she loved when he touched her neck like that. It was ten times more arousing than his kisses alone. Slowly he trailed his nose down her collarbone to the valley between her breasts continuing to inhale her scent on his way down. Her nipples rose to sensitive peeks as she curled her fingers in his hair reveling in the feel of him as he worshiped her body. He cautiously bypassed her breasts, knowing how tender they had become. Instead, he trailed kisses over her ribs spanning his hands over her waist delicately caressing the curve that was slowly disappearing each day with the growth of their baby. He stopped below her belly button and placed a firm, definitive kiss right where he had found their child earlier that night. "If you had eyelids Baby, I'd say close them because… oh the things I'm going to do to your Mommy right now!"

Cate laughed and smacked him lightly on the shoulders. "Don't tell the baby that."

He looked up at her while a devilish grin as he backed up further under the covers trailing his hands along the length of her thighs. "Mommy was mine first. Baby's just renting space until it can find a bigger place."

"Yes, but the baby doesn't need to hear… Oh my…" Cate's eyes rolled back in her head and she forgot completely what they were talking about. "Mmmm… Never mind…" Her toes curled and she grabbed fistfuls of sheet in her hands as his tongue worked its slow, sensual magic in the wet heat between her thighs. "Oh God, Dr. House!"

"Yes, Dr. Milton-House, " he answered pausing in his exquisite torture.

"Shut up, don't talk. For the love of God, don't stop!" He chuckled proudly and dutifully went back to work. There was nothing more dangerous than his tongue when he wielded it properly. Quick as silver lightening and lined with velvet. This was the best kind of tongue lashing…"_Oh God YES!"_


	6. Chapter 6: Turnaround

Sessions II: Nine Months

Chapter 6: Turnaround

The next morning, House stopped by the second floor nurses station to grab Head Trauma Cheerleader's chart on his way up to Diagnostics. The team was going to have to juggle two cases this week. He couldn't in all good conscience just leave one of his favorite cheerleaders with unexplained intermittent seizures, not to mention the fact that Tritter might actually shoot him if something happened to her. He figured a cap in the ass was good enough incentive to be a little extra ambitious every once in a blue moon.

Wilson waved at him coming from a patient room the down the hall. The oncologist sprinted to catch up with him, but House entered the elevator and pushed the button rapidly to force the doors closed before he could make it in. Skidding to a halt on the soles of his shinny loafers, Wilson shimmied in between the closing doors of the elevator almost catching the tails of his lab coat in the process. House stared at him with an amused smirk on his face. "Whoa, where's the fire Jimmy?"

Wilson glared at him and adjusted the lapels of his lab coat. "Were you going to tell me Tritter was in the hospital or was I supposed to just figure it out when he freezes all of my bank accounts again?"

House rolled his eyes. "Well obviously some little blonde birdie told you already so I wouldn't have to," he remarked nonchalantly. _Leave it Cameron to share and tell_. "She was always so good at my correspondence."

Wilson made an irritated face. "You'd think you'd have let your best friend know that you were treating the daughter of the guy that almost put you in jail."

"You would think," he goaded and then shrugged. "I was busy having sex with my wife."

"Yeah, good for you, " Wilson drawled. "A small little text message would have sufficed."

House rolled his eyes bigger this time. "No it wouldn't, " he scoffed. "You would have texted back and been all like 'WTF? Plz explain' and then I would have wound up on the phone with you anyway. So I cut to the chase and just avoided the conversation altogether figuring you'd get the scoop, which you obviously have, before I got here, hence where we are right now so stop asking me questions you already know the answers to."

"I ask the questions because I care, " Wilson bristled.

"You feed on the drama, " House retorted.

"You feed on creating the drama, " he countered and turned his head to look pointedly at him. "You did an ultrasound in the ER? Why don't you just hang up a neon sign?"

House grumbled. "All the rest of the machines were used or broken. I had no choice."

Wilson furrowed his brow. "You could have let the OB/GYN do it like normal people. That's what we're doing, instead of flaunting it in the face of the woman who was naively in love with you for three years."

House scoffed. "Do you know me at all?"

"I'm beginning to think 'no', " Wilson remarked with a confused shake of his head.

Despite his irritation with Cameron of late, he was dying to know what she had said. "What'd she do, pump you for information?"

Wilson nodded guiltily. "She's flabbergasted to say the least."

"Well, it's none of her damn business…" The doors opened depositing them on the fourth floor and House limped out of the elevator in the direction to his office.

"She just wants to see you happy, " Wilson relayed.

"Yeah, well I don't think she'll be sending us a wedding or baby shower gift anytime soon, " he grumbled making his way to the glass door of the conference room. He made a irritated face, because the damn cleaning crew had closed the blinds again and not a single one of the lame ducks felt the need to open them. He liked to have them open so he could see Cuddy coming. He pushed the door open prepared to chastise the lazy members of his team but was assaulted by a chorus of cheers and hoots and hollers as soon as he crossed the threshold. Taken completely off guard, he looked a round the room. Someone had decorated the room in a thousand pink and blue streamers. Similar colored balloons danced happily from the corners of freaking everywhere. And there was a banner that strung across the wall to his office that proudly and annoyingly announced 'Congratulations!' He frowned and drew his eyebrows together fiercely. _Kutner_!!

He turned abruptly around to leave and ran smack into Wilson's chest. House glared at him but his traitorous best friend crossed his arms impertinently across his chest and wouldn't budge. He stepped to the side but Wilson countered. He tried to sneak around the other way but even in his slippery loafers, Wilson was obviously faster than him. Trapped, House turned to escape through the door to his office but was waylaid by an lively and frighteningly cheerful Thirteen who was coming at him with the biggest, brightest smile on her face and her arms outstretched like she was actually going to try and hug him. He almost dodged her but she caught him in her long spindly arms. Damn his leg… he couldn't outrun her. She clutched him tightly to her nonexistent chest and rocked him back and forth in a perverse dance of excitement.

"Con-gra-tu-la-tions! You're gonna be a Daddy, " she sing songed to him. He closed his eyes enduring the adulation. Finally after what seemed like an eternity that moved in excruciating slow motion, she released him and placed her hands over her mouth as she jumped up and down barely able to contain her enthusiasm. He'd never actually seen her this animated. It was kind of terrifying.

Taub came up to him next and extended his hand. House stared at the little man's hand and felt a sharp poke from behind him in the region of his kidneys. Glancing over his shoulder he spied Wilson giving him a stare down. Rolling his eyes, he reluctantly extended his hand accepting the handshake. "_Mazal tov_, House." He could almost hear the yenta in him screaming '_it's about time'_.

Foreman came over and shook his hand. Pulling him into a bro-hug, he clapped him on the back. _Hard_. "Congratulations. You fuck this up and I'll personally kill you." When he pulled back, there was a menace to his smile that almost alarmed House. He took a small step backward away from the dangerous glare. After all the things he's ever taunted Foreman with, he'd never pegged him to resort to actual physical violence.

When Foreman stalked away to the coffee maker, Kutner came over to him with a cheesy smile. House cocked his head warily to the side wondering what Kutner had up his sleeve. The young doctor came up to him and threw his arms around him in an awkward bro-hug that was an odd cross between Foreman's and Thirteen's. "Dude, you're gonna be a dad! That's so amazing!"

House was horrified. He threw his head back in revulsion at such a display of misplaced sentiment. This was _so_ not his scene. And frankly he was flabbergasted. Yesterday he was a lying pariah. Today he was Prince Charming? Why such the turn around? Wedging his hands between them, he shoved Kutner off of him sending the younger man back with such a force that he almost toppled over the chair. Kutner just laughed and pointed his finger at him. "I love you man! I knew you couldn't lie about marrying her!"

House threw his hands up in the air and realized he was still clutching the patient's folder. "Enough of this ... this … disgusting love fest! If any of you ever touches me again, you're fired!" he threatened swing his cane in a wide arc at them. They all cautiously backed up away from him giving him his much coveted space. He limped over to the coffee maker and tossed the file on the counter. "Yesterday none of you believed me, now today you're all party hats and streamers. A little hypocritical don't you think?"

"Yesterday, you didn't tell us Cate was pregnant," Thirteen admonished coming over to sit in one of the chairs at the table.

_Figures_… "I wasn't allowed to divulge that part, " he conceded.

"Maybe we would have believed you then, " Taub contended.

House poured himself a much needed dose of caffeine. Fixing his coffee, he turned back and leaned against the counter. "Like hell you would!"

"He's right, " Foreman agreed. "We would have strung him up from his short and curlies for lying about that too."

Wilson laughed.

"Hey, don't laugh so soon there Jimbo, wait until they find out about you, " House muttered.

All eyes turned to Wilson. _Ah, successfully deflected_…

"Find out about what?" Kutner asked.

"Ooo, more secrets, " Thirteen cooed.

"Something he obviously doesn't want us to know, " Taub surmised sipping his coffee.

"Um, I've got a… thing, " Wilson lied. "Patients, charts, " he threw his thumb over his shoulder. "Yeah, gotta go…" He bolted from the room.

"You'll find out soon enough." House muttered keeping Cuddy's secret. His eyes scanned the room. They had hung streamers from every corner of the room like a giant spider web of nauseating festivity. They had to have decorated for an hour before he came in which meant that Cameron had to have told one of them last night. "So who was it? Who did she call in hysterics?"

"Who?" Taub asked, as if he didn't already know.

"Cameron, duh… " House voiced sarcastically.

Foreman made a disgruntled face. _He knew it had to be him_. "She was as shocked as the rest of us, maybe more so. And she wasn't in hysterics."

"No? But she just had to call you and gossip, " he countered.

Foreman laughed coolly. "You did an ultrasound on your wife in the middle of _her_ ER. Did you think she wasn't going to notice?"

"Which reminds me, where the fuck is the ultrasound on this floor?"

Kutner turned away from his pursuing eyes. House stared sharply at him. "What did you do?"

Kutner shrugged. "Nothing."

Taub snorted.

House loomed over Taub who cracked instantly and threw Kutner under the bus. "He set it on fire."

"Seriously?!"

All four of the fellows looked around sheepishly.

"How the fuck do you set an ultrasound on fire?"

"You don't want to know, " Kutner muttered.

"Oh that's just perfect, " he griped. "Now we're going to have to come up with a diversion to blame some other department, so the Borg Queen doesn't take the money out of my Vicodin budget. That's coming out of your ass."

"Already taken care of, " Foreman assured him. "It's coming out of janitorial. Evidently someone might have plugged in a floor buffer next to it and it overloaded the circuit."

House clutched his hand over his heart and wiped a fake tear from his eye. "Lie, cheat and steal…Daddy's so proud."

"How far along is Cate, " Thirteen asked changing the subject back to his being a daddy.

"Eight weeks, " he said.

"That's still early, " Kutner mentioned.

"Everything good on the ultrasound?" Taub asked.

House nodded quietly and sipped his coffee completely in uncomfortable territory talking about this with them. He didn't like them knowing the intimate details of his personal life even though he thrived on knowing every nuance of theirs. However, that was a one way street for him. He pushed off the counter and hooked his cane on the myriad of loops hanging from the tiles in the ceiling. He began pulling down the decorations, balling up the thin crepe paper against his shirt.

"Aw come on, it took us forty five minutes to put that up," Thirteen complained. "You could at least tolerate it for a day."

Kutner shook his head and laughed under his breath. "It's fine. The look on his face when he walked in was enough."

Foreman placed his hands on his hips. "We do actually have a patient that still needs our help, " he reminded them. "He vomited blood this morning and is spiking a fever now."

"How high, " Taub inquired.

"102, " he relayed.

"That means infection," Thirteen said hoping on the diagnostic train.

Tossing his bundle into the waste basket, House grabbed the blue folder from the coffee counter and threw it down on the table. "We have another patient."

Kutner straddled the chair backwards and reached for it. "We don't do two patients at one time."

House grabbed one of the balloons and sucked out a gulp of helium. "We do," he said, cracking himself up with a giggle because he sounded like he belonged in munchkin land.

"No we don't, " Foreman protested. "We've never done more than one patient at a time."

"Why are we taking this new case, " Taub questioned looking at him with his typical bored stare.

"Because she needs our help, " House said his voice slowly descended to his normal octave.

Thirteen snorted. "What, now that you're gonna be dad, you've gone all compassionate?"

"Head trauma, brain swelling and repeating seizures, " Kutner relayed from behind the folder. House let the rest of the helium out of the balloon in a loud flatulent sound from behind Thirteen's butt, before pulling the cap off his favorite marker and writing the three symptoms on the board. Kutner was the only one who seemed to appreciate his humor, everyone else sighed in exasperation. _Jeesh, they were such party poopers._

"Yeah, so why exactly are we taking this case again, this is nothing mysterious, " Foreman objected.

"The trauma caused the swelling, the swelling caused the seizures. Case solved, " Taub stated.

"Not if she had a seizure before she fell, " House announced.

"Epilepsy, " Thirteen immediately switched to his track. She was such a flipper… she could never make up her mind which side to be on.

"No history, " House said shaking his head.

"Fifteen year old kid with rectal and now abdominal bleeding, no ulcers, no diverticulum," Foreman intoned strongly. "We already have a case. Turn the other one over to Mickleson."

"Can't, " House shook his head.

"Why?" Kutner inquired.

"Is Cuddy making us take this case, " Taub questioned.

"No. And that would be her job, if she were, but she's not, " he defended, not really sure why he did that. He never defended her. That was weird. _Dude, he better not be starting to like her_. God forbid!

Foreman visibly bristled and grabbed the folder from Thirteen who was now reviewing it. His eyes grew dark. "Are you serious? You've got to be fucking kidding me. Tritter?"

House leaned on the frame of the whiteboard. He nodded. "Yeah, Tritter's daughter."

A light went on in Taub's head. "The police detective from when we broke into that school teacher's house?"

House nodded. "That would be the one."

Taub snorted. "You clearly have a death wish."

Thirteen and Kutner looked like the two kids who didn't get the dirty joke at the lunch table. Foreman crossed his arms heavily over his chest. "What do you think is going to happen if you can't fix this girl? You think he's just gonna walk away and say 'Hey, thanks for the effort'?"

House scratched at the back of his head. "No. But if I do fix her, I'll never have to worry about parking tickets again."

"Oh that's great, " Foreman sneered. "We'll just joke about how your drug habit almost landed you in jail and how he made all of our lives miserable to get to you. Never mind that he's hot for you wife, probably still wants to see you rot behind bars and you have a baby on the way."

The three sophomore ducklings sat quietly in their chairs nervously waiting to see if House was going to explode on Foreman. House stared at his senior employee. Foreman had a point, which of course he'd thought about already himself but he wouldn't give him the satisfaction of letting him know that.

"None of that stuff is relevant to the case, run an FMRI on the boy and get the results from the CAT scan and a history from the parents on the girl, " he ordered.

Thirteen, Kutner and Taub immediately rose from their seats.

"No problem, _Dad_, " Kutner said.

"Right oh, _Big Daddy_, " Thirteen teased.

Taub shook his head but gave him a smile that told him he was happy for him.

Foreman crossed his arms over his broad chest and regarded him for a moment making no move to leave the office with the others. "You really have no concerns about this?"

House narrowed his eyes at him. "I don't have to explain myself to you."

"No you don't, " Foreman shrugged. "But hear me out anyway. The last time this guy was around, you nearly self-destructed. You can't afford to do that now."

"We're treating his daughter, he's not investigating me, " House objected.

"Yeah, the last time, you said something that burned his ass so much he pursued you like a serial killer, " Foreman reminded him.

"No, I left a thermometer in his ass, that's a little different," House recalled.

Foreman shook his head. "And if you kill his daughter, what then?"

"Well, we're just going to have to make sure we don't kill her then, huh?" He grabbed his cane from the whiteboard and hobbled into his office done with this conversation. Foreman followed him not taking the hint. Standing behind his desk, he sorted through his mail. Foreman stood in front of him staring at him. "What?"

"Did Remy talk to you about the trials?"

"Who?"

Foreman rolled his eyes. "Dr. Hadely? Thirteen?" he said when House didn't immediately make the connection.

House nodded. He knew exactly whom he was talking about; he was just yanking his chain. "Yeah."

"You approved the time off, " Foreman stated.

"Yeah, " he said. "Of course I did, she's dying and needs something to cling to. Something that's more than you."

"This drug is promising."

"Yeah, and the AZT for AIDS was promising too, but it's not a cure. She'll still die."

"I know that, " he said . "I… this… might give her more time."

"It might give _you_ more time with her, " House stated. "That's really what this is about."

Foreman frowned at him. "I care about her. If Cate was dying, wouldn't you do everything you could to give her the best possible life?"

House sighed and regarded his former fellow for a moment. He'd known Foreman for five years. In all that time, the only thing he'd been passionate about was the job and maybe the fact that he didn't want to turn into him. Yet, here he was, pleading his case to keep his dying girlfriend alive. This was the closest thing to emotional he'd been since he was infected by the bird virus three years ago. Interesting… "Do you love her?"

"What? I don't know, " he replied.

"Do. You. Love. Her, " he demanded forcefully.

Foreman shifted under his stare. "Maybe." He sighed and his face softened. "Yes."

"Then do what you've got to do to save her."

Foreman stared at him and breathed in deeply, his eyes growing serious. His jaw worked as he let House's words sink in. Somewhere inside him they were ringing against his own inner truth, whatever that was. He nodded at him, steadfast in his conviction.

"Now, go make sure those idiots don't kill Tritter's daughter. I'd like to be alive to see my own kid be born."

_A/N: Hey, diddle, diddle… Some of you die hard fans may recognize bits of the conversation House had with Foreman from the 100__th__ episode in that last section. I sort of took the pieces that made most sense to my plot line and then tweaked them to fit. I'm not sure I'm going to give 13 the whole brain tumor thing and have Foreman switch meds on her because it's really more of a side story and therefore not all that important to the main plot of House and Cate becoming parents. BTW… I think I'm subconsciously beefing up my Kutner's role because of the clear void that is now going to be a part of the cannon. I loved his character and how House played off of him. Not really sure if I want to go there to that really dark place in my universe either. Maybe he will live on here, where he can be safe and happy, because in the Session Universe, anything is possible! Good God! I sound like Disney… anyway, reviews make the world go 'round. Enjoy!_


	7. Chapter 7: Little Dutch Boy

Sessions II: Nine Months

Chapter 7: Little Dutch Boy

Three days had passed since the ultrasound. The team was no closer to solving the cheerleader's problem or the kid with the rectal bleeding. House had been MIA for much of that time and Cate missed him, but of course she couldn't tell him that because she didn't want to appear needy. She was having a hard time reconciling the fact that everyone in the hospital continued to give her strange looks of sympathy or forced words of congratulations on her marriage and pregnancy. It was hard. She wanted to be happy; she _was_ happy. Just no one seemed to be happy _for her_.

It wasn't that Cate wanted or needed approval from anyone. She ever really sought that out, even as a girl, but when every person she encountered gave her the same reaction it was becoming a little tiring and it made her wonder. Of course, she loved him and she knew he loved her. That wasn't the issue. It was more the concern of how they were going to sustain this relationship over time. And no one seemed to believe that it was even possible. Except for her. Because he wasn't even sure himself. He had never said it but she could tell it was there hanging in the back of his mind taunting him like a predetermined failure just waiting to happen. And that scared her a little.

Cate was down in the ER today doing a psyche consult on a homeless man they had found squatting in the basement of the college library. He was clearly schizophrenic and had been off his meds for quite some time. New Jersey had had blast of cold come in from the North and he needed some shelter. In one of his more lucid moments, he had told her that he was once a student at the college and spent a lot of time in the library studying. It was a sense of comfort to him, Cate surmised, and that was why he had returned to there for protection from the elements. But, when he was discovered living there, he had an altercation with security earning him a laceration on his forehead and a free ticket into the psychiatric ward for a few days. He couldn't go on living in the library, and he needed to get back on his meds, so he was her charge for a while. Currently, Cameron was stitching him up while she was in the process of admitting him for observation.

Cameron hadn't spoke much at all to her since she had been called down from her rounds on the sixth floor. Of course, the head of the ER was busy and had things to do, but there was a terseness to her that wasn't her usual demeanor. It kind of unnerved Cate and she wasn't really sure how she wanted to go about handling the situation. She and Allison had become friends over the past few months despite the history between House and his former fellow. Cate genuinely liked the young doctor and enjoyed the time they had spent together. She would hate to see their friendship go down the tubes because of old, unresolved feelings of hurt and jealousy.

Rubbing her back, Cate shifted from foot to foot to relieve the pressure that was accumulating in her sciatic region. Her skirts were becoming tight and her shoes no longer fit like the $800 dollar glove they used to be and she wished for the thirtieth time this morning that she had just decided to wear scrubs in stead of her usual uniform of a tweed pencil skirt and Louboutains. This pregnancy was severely going to cut into her fashion sense. Chuckling to herself, she thought about how Cuddy was going to handle that as well. If ever there was a woman who prided her self on her 'assets' it was Lisa. She was going to have to invite her to go shopping for some maternity clothes, and soon.

Cate was at the nurses' station making some notes in Literary Homeless man's chart indicating some tests that she wanted to run when Cameron stepped up behind the desk.

"He's all stitched up whenever your guys want to come get him, " she informed her coolly.

Cate smiled at her, hoping that being friendly might elicit a response from her. Cameron gave her a thin smile and grabbed another chart before disappearing to see another patient. A nurse witnessed the tight exchange and gave her a sympathetic shrug and Cate wondered for the hundredth time if there was a sign on her back that said 'pity me'. Wow, she knew that being married to House wasn't going to be the easiest thing in the world but, she had no inkling that it would be this hard for everyone to wrap their heads around the concept. The butterfly effect of his asshole-ishness had apparently reached quite far and wide.

Picking up the phone, she dialed the Ward to arrange for the patient pick-up. She was informed they would be there with in the half an hour. Satisfied that the patient was stable and secured to the bed so he couldn't disappear, Cate decided that she would return to her office to prepare for her afternoon appointments. She signed the chart and slipped it into the box before leaving the ER.

She heard him coming before she even saw him turn the corner down the hall. That familiar triple rhythm gate was forever etched into her brain. Plus the very rude, and loud, comment he made about the nurse's big ass as he passed couldn't hide the fact that the cyclone was coming fast and furious to cause trouble. Cate shook her head and crossed her arms halting where she was waiting for his approach.

"Must you insult twenty-five people on your way down here, " she demanded in exasperation.

His look of pleasant surprise to see her changed to a look of chagrin for a split second and then morphed rapidly into mock consternation… "It was more like five and yes, I'll give you fifty reasons why: they're all in her ass."

"House!" Cate admonished because he had remarked obnoxiously on purpose so the nurse could hear it. Her name was Antonia and Cate had worked with her a couple of times during her shifts in the ER. The woman was hysterically funny and could totally take his ribbing, but that was not the point. He was throwing sticks and stones just to be an ass.

A few moments later, the nurse came back around the corner with a stack of dressing gowns in her arms with an amused smirk on her face. "It's alright, honey. We all know he only makes comments like that because he knows he can't handle this much woman at one time, " she looked him up and down with a pursed set of lips appraising him with disappointment. Her expression announced that she found him completely lacking in the man department and she looked at Cate with that familiar look of pity. "That's why he likes you skinny white bitches so much."

He leaned over in a dramatic stage aside. "That skinny white bitch is my wife."

Antonia rolled her eyes at him. "I know, child. You think I've been living under a rock?"

"It'd have to be a meteor the size of Manhattan to fit over you, " he retorted.

"Girlfriend, you've got your work cut out for you, " she said to her with a deep belly chuckle. "Oh, and congratulations on the little one."

Cate smiled. Even after all of the insults, Antonia was the first person that week to legitimately seem happy for them. "Thank you." Her hand fluttered to her stomach on its own accord and she shook her head because she had found herself doing that more and more lately.

"Take my advice sweetheart, don't let this busted old geezer by it, because it'll come out all bitter and angry like him and no sweet, tiny baby needs that, " Antonia said touching her arm tenderly as she left them.

Cate turned to look at her husband who had an amused expression on his face. "You are incorrigible."

"I know. Why are you down here?" he asked.

"Schizo off his meds, you?"

His eyes dropped to the floor and he shuffled a bit. "I need a consult."

Cate raised her eyebrows. He had come to see Cameron. _Interesting_. "You need _Cameron_."

"No, I need her _expertise_," he retorted. Right… God, forbid he ever admitted that he needed someone.

"Are you going to talk to her?" she asked quietly as someone else passed by them.

"Yes. Words will be exchanged. Full sentences maybe even paragraphs," he snarked, clearly avoiding the double meaning in her comment.

"You know what I mean," she admonished. He stared at her, his expression carefully guarded. "It's been three days, Greg."

"Don't rush me, " he warned, his eyes firm.

"It could be three years and you'd say the same thing," she insisted.

"I said don't rush me," he snapped. His eyes flashed icy blue daggers at her and his tone stabbed her heart a bit.

Cate bristled and set her jaw firmly. "Don't talk to me like one of your subordinates."

"Don't nag me like a wife." He wielded that word, _wife_, as if it were a curse.

Pissed off, Cate poked her finger into his chest. "I am your _wife_. And I'll _nag_ you as much as I want, for as long as I want, until I get what I want."

He looked at her finger in his chest and then brought his eyes back up to her. There was no amusement in them anymore, only clear, tightly kept in-check annoyance and anger. "Bang your head up a against a brick wall. You'll get things done faster that way." Sidestepping her, he limped purposefully away toward the ER.

"Every day is like banging my head against a brick wall, I'm used to it by now, " she hollered after him. He waved his folder at her flippantly without even turning around. He was done with her. And had just dismissed her! Fuck him! _Ooo, God he was so frustrating!_

Cate took a deep breath and closed her eyes to calm herself. Fine. She'd wait. But if he didn't take care of it soon, she was going to have to find a way to make it happen. Even if she had to take matters into her hands.

HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

House stormed into Wilson's office and threw himself down on the chair like a five year old in the throws of a temper tantrum. He was frustrated to no end and was about ready to explode. Wilson stared up at him like a deer caught in head lights watching him carefully to ascertain what was going on.

"Welcome to the complaint department, do come in, " Wilson said inviting him after the fact.

"Are you ever actually out of your office," House grumbled.

"No. My real job is to keep you entertained or mentally stable, depending on the day. They call it Oncology for short."

House rubbed his hand over his jaw in irritation and tapped his cane in a staccato rhythm on the floor.

"Care to discuss what's got your panties in a bunch?" his friend tried carefully.

"Women are a fucking pain in my ass," he barked.

Wilson chortled in laughter. "Women, huh? Why plural? Who'd you piss off now?"

House rolled his eyes and shook his head in frustration. "Oh let's see… My wife, Cameron… I'm sure if I think about it I probably said something to piss off Thirteen this morning, too."

"Uh, oh, " Wilson muttered. "The wife and Cameron."

"They're never fucking satisfied."

"They're women." When he didn't comment, his counselor took it as his cue to start asking questions. "What'd you do to piss off Cate?"

He scratched his head and looked around the room. "She wants me to talk to Cameron, something about 'airing out the shit that's between us'. All that's going to do is make it stink worse."

Wilson raised his eyebrows curiously. "She's encouraging this?"

"That's what I said," he grumbled. "Nothing good can come from that stupid idea."

Wilson shrugged. "Maybe. Maybe not."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean," he questioned. _Now he was encouraging this?_

"I might be good to talk to her to see where she's at on all of the new changes in your life," Wilson offered.

"What? No it wouldn't," he objected.

"How so," Wilson prompted.

"Because we never dated, I never promised her anything, I have nothing to apologize for. Though by the way she's acting, you'd think I ran off with her sister on our wedding day. I don't get what the big drama is all about. I don't owe Cameron shit!" House blew out a pent up breath in aggravation. Women and their twisted sense of reality made him crazy.

Wilson stared at him. "You really are an idiot when it comes to women."

House rolled his eyes practically snorting in derision. "And you're such the fucking expert, Mr. I've been married and divorced three times," he shot at him. "You know who the expert is? Taub. He's the guru on women. He can fuck around on his wife and then get her to apologize for not being there for him. That's talent."

"So why don't you go bother him?" Wilson actually sounded offended.

"Because, he's busy pretending to be me in the clinic," House muttered. "And you'll buy me lunch."

HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

Cate stabbed at her salad losing each piece of lettuce as she picked up her fork. Aggravated, she pushed it away. "Grrr. I want a fucking greasy-ass bacon cheeseburger!"

"So go back and get one," Thirteen insisted.

"It will go straight to your ass," Cuddy warned, delicately placing a forkful of spinach salad into her mouth.

"And all that spinach is going to make you constipated," Cate retorted snidely. How dare she sit there and pretend to enjoy that salad!

Thirteen laughed careful not to choke on her tuna sandwich.

"Please, as if the vitamins don't already do that on their own," Cuddy said absently forgetting for a second that Thirteen wasn't privy to the information that she was pregnant too.

"What vitamins do that?" Thirteen questioned.

Cuddy's eyes went wide and she swallowed her mouthful on a gulp. Cate tilted her head and raised her eyebrows. _Uh, oh, she was stuck now…_

Cuddy's look changed and a smile stole over her face lighting her eyes up like a woman should when she was about to announce she was with child. "I'm pregnant."

Thirteen gasped. "Oh my god!" She grasped for her hand and squeezed it. "Are you sure?"

Cuddy nodded. "But no one knows because it's till very early yet."

Cate smiled for her friend despite her foul mood. "And they've decided to _not_ get married."

Thirteen sipped her iced tea and looked astonished. "Wow, this is amazing news. I'm so happy for you."

Cuddy laughed musically and sighed. "It's all very exciting. I still can't believe it's real."

"Have House do an ultrasound, it'll be very real then," Cate remarked.

Cuddy looked at her sympathetically, knowing the drama that ensued because of her own. "Why would he do an ultrasound on you in the ER?"

Cate sighed. "It was a thing…"

"A thing?" Lisa questioned pressing her to go further.

"We were going back and forth about the baby being a fetus or a baby and out of the blue he gets this brilliant idea to go look at it," she explained. "Only, we get here and three of your ultrasounds are broken, by the way, and I was disappointed. I told him it was fine and that we'd just see it next week at Sheldon's office but…"

Thirteen snarfed her iced tea. "Sheldon?" she coughed wiping her face with a napkin.

Cuddy shook her head sharply at her to shush her.

Cate stared at them both. "What is this big mystery about Sheldon?"

"Oh, you don't want to know," Thirteen told her gravely.

"I'm thinking I do," she said picking her salad back up because her stomach was eating itself from the inside out, she was so hungry.

"You really don't," Cuddy told her.

Cate opened her mouth to say something but Thirteen raised her hand and animatedly waved toward the food line. Cate and Cuddy turned around to see Cameron coming out of the cashier's line carrying a to-go box for her sandwich and chips. Cate frowned. She knew there was no way Cameron was going to eat with them after the cool reception she had gotten in the ER this morning.

Reluctantly, the petite blonde walked over to their table. "Hi."

"Aren't you going to sit?" Thirteen asked motioning to the empty chair.

Cameron gave her a thin smile and looked around the table not really making eye contact with anyone. "I'm just going to head back to the ER. I have a lot of paper work to do."

"The budgets aren't due for another week yet," Cuddy told her rest her chin delicately on her steepled fingers.

"They ER's very busy today, she has a lot of charts to catch up on," Cate interjected for her. Cameron smiled sadly at her ironically grateful for the out.

The other two women acquiesced sensing the tension and Cameron left with a quiet goodbye.

"Why would you make excuses for her," Cuddy demanded once Cameron was out of ear shot.

"She's having a hard time with all of this," Cate said lamely. _Like she wasn't_…

"She's being unfair to you," Thirteen stated. "You deserve the right to be happy and celebrate."

"It's not right that you have to clear a path for her like she's the jilted lover, when she never was," Cuddy grumbled. "He loves you."

House and Wilson entered the cafe at that moment and Cate sighed suddenly becoming overwhelmed. She was angry at Cameron. She was angry at House. She was angry at the whole freaking world and the dam was about to burst. He little Dutch boy imitation of plugging up the holes just wasn't cutting it anymore.

Standing quickly, she pushed her chair out with the backs of her legs and raised her hands dejectedly. "I just can't deal with this right now." She hurried out of the cafeteria behind both Wilson and House without so much as a wave lest she start crying right then and there. House was so caught up in his own drama he didn't even notice that his wife had just fled right past him.

HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

_A/N: I apologize to all of you Cameron fans out there but unfortunately she is an essential plot device for me in this juncture of the story. Believe me, I definitely don't feel this way about her, I love Cameron but I need to burn her in effigy for a bit to cause angst. There will be a resolution to this and she will have her own reasons for what is going on with her. So sit tight and all will get better in a little while…. Enjoy._


	8. Chapter 8: When the Levy Breaks

Sessions II: Nine Months

Chapter 8: When the Levy Breaks

Cate had stopped by the Diagnostics office later that day to let him know she was going home. She had a headache and was thoroughly exhausted. All she wanted to do was change into some comfortable clothes, get these shoes off and curl up on the couch to fall asleep by the TV. No one was in the office so she figured they must be still dealing with the patient. Disappointed, she had briefly contemplated texting him, because even though she was upset with him, there was apart of her that needed to see his face. She crossed her arms wearily over her chest and walked back to the elevator. She was about to push the elevator button when Wilson came out of his office with his briefcase and over coat. He was evidently leaving for the day, as well.

Coming over to her, he smiled. "You look like I feel, " he commented good naturedly.

"That bad huh?" she said running her hand tiredly over her forehead.

"The glow of pregnancy doesn't really happen until the second trimester, " he assured her.

She smiled self-deprecatingly. "Lisa's radiating."

"Yes, she is, " he replied wistfully and then sighed running his hand over the back of his neck. "Except she's psychotically following every little instruction, terrified to make a wrong move because she's afraid she might lose the baby."

Cate touched her hand to his arm. Yeah, that sounded exactly like Cuddy. Over achiever extraordinaire. "You need to help her relax. All that stress is not good."

"I know, but I don't know what to do for her, " he said. "She keeps everything inside, as if she's completely fine and won't talk to me about it."

"Make her dinner, draw her a bath, rub her feet, meditate with her, " she suggested. "Let her know your there when she needs you."

Wilson gave her a dubious grin. "House doing those things for you?"

Cate burst out laughing. "No. Foolish man, you should know better than that." She looked away from him, fighting the fresh tears coming up again and she cursed the surge of hormones that came along with pregnancy. "Actually we're in a little bit if an argument right now."

"I know," he said. Of course, House had gone to vent to him about it. It was no doubt the topic of their lunch conversation. "Cate, you have to know he'll do anything for you but you just can't push him because he pushes back ten times harder."

Cate sighed. "I know. I just don't want to deal with this tension. I'm supposed to be happy. I'm a newlywed and pregnant, for God's sake. People are supposed to be happy for me. My friends are supposed to be happy for me."

"What are you more upset about? That he won't talk to Cameron or that Cameron is having difficulty with this?" Wilson asked carefully.

Cate shrugged. "I don't know. It really bothers me that she's been so distant. But I think I blame him for that."

"Is it really his fault?"Wilson put out there.

"When is it not his fault," she said and then regretted her quick comment.

"Come on, that's not necessarily true, " he replied.

"No, I guess not," she relented.

"This time it's not. I know it's a first," he chuckled when she made a face. "The way I see it is, you want Cameron to be happy for you, because that means that she's completely over him. And as long as she's not okay with it, the longer the doubt is in your mind." He paused for a moment considering what to say next. "He definitely needs to talk to her because they have their own set of issues but maybe you need to talk to her as well," he suggested.

Cate regarded him for a moment. Maybe he should be the one that should be doing the psychology stuff, because she was definitely losing her perspective, at least when it came to her own personal life.

"You're absolutely right," she agreed on a sigh. If she waited for him to do it, she'd be waiting until Hell froze over. And besides, even if he did talk to Cameron there was no guarantee that it would clear the air between them anyway. This was something that she, alone, needed to address with her friend. It was something they had been politely skirting around for along time since their first little spat over him way back in the very beginning. There was no need to pretend it was all ok anymore, because it just simply wasn't. There was a wedge between them and the either needed to remove it or part ways. All Cate knew was that they two women couldn't go on like this.

Cate leaned into Wilson and gave him a big hug and a kiss on the cheek. "Thank you for the perspective."

He nodded. "You're welcome."

"Do you, by any chance, know where he is?" she asked.

"They might be in radiology," he suggested.

"Ok, " Cate said. "And Wilson, thanks again."

Cate rode the elevator down with Wilson and continued to the basement to the Radiology wing to stop by and see him. It was completely out of her way considering she had to go back up to her office to gather her things but she continued to feel the tugging need to make personal contact with him before she left for the day. With the difficulty they were still having with both of the cases, there was no telling how long he'd be stuck at the hospital tonight.

Exiting the elevator, she made the turn down to toward Radiology and Diagnostic Imaging. Sure enough, Wilson was right. They were in one of the viewing labs illuminated with the eerie blue glow of the light boxes. About thirty different CT and MRI films were posted on the walls so they could examine them with a fine tooth comb. All five of them were in the middle of a heated debate clearly no closer to the solution than they had been in days. His brow was furrowed tightly and he was visibly angry because the answer continued to elude him. He glanced up as her presence caught his eye through the glass door. She tapped her watch and made a driving motion with her hands to indicate that she was going home, not wanting to disturb their discussion. He waved her in but she held her hands up declining. Irritated he tapped his cane on the glass and motioned again for her to come in.

Reluctantly, Cate pulled open the door and entered. They had pushed each other's buttons enough for one day and she didn't see any real harm in entering if he wanted her to be in there.

"There's no tumor, no cysts, no ganglions, no nothing," Foreman expelled on a breath of frustration.

"But there's clear pancreatitis that's not responding to antibiotics," Taub replied.

"Then start him on the course of methylprednisolone, 1000 mg IV, like I told you yesterday," House said.

"If it's an infection you'll kill him," Foreman objected.

"If his pancreas shuts down, he'll die anyway," Kutner argued sounding a lot like House.

Trying to stay out of their way and interested in the massive visual display of this poor kids internal organs, Cate wondered around the perimeter of the room listening to them argue over the diagnosis as she waited for him to be free enough to talk to her. House came up behind her, sooner than she had expected. "I don't know when I'm going to be able to get away."

Cate nodded, her arms crossed over her front because it was chilly down there. And because she felt a little insecure. "I know. Do you want me to order you dinner?"

He declined with a shake of his head and she continued to peruse the scans. She was looking at 5mm slices of the stomach, gallbladder and pancreas.

"We could schedule him for exploratory surgery," Kutner suggested. "Open him up and see what going on inside?"

House turned. "You can't go opening up a kid with a bleeding disorder and infection. He'll bleed out on the table."

And then Cate saw it. She looked closer. There was a definitive circular mark on one slice at the duct of the pancreas.

"House," she called. Looking at the next four slices it was there clear as day. They were still arguing vehemently about what to do and she had just inadvertently solved their case. "House."

"What?" he turned to her. She pointed at the spot where the Wirsung, main pancreatic duct, met the duodenum at the beginning of the small intestine. He came to look closer to where she was pointing. He stared at her finger and then scanned the four following slices touching the spots with his own hand as if that was going to make it more believable. He looked at her confused. "What the hell is that? And how did we miss that?"

Cate looked around for a pen. But not just any pen, a click pen. Taub had one in the pocket of his lab coat. She went over and slid it from his breast pocket. "Excuse me, I need a visual," she told him with an apologetic smile. Clicking the pen she held it up to House and then opened it removing the small silver cylindrical button. Holding it up against the MRI, she nodded. It was a perfect match.

"No way," Kutner exclaimed.

"I'll be damned," Foreman uttered.

"It's blocking the duct causing the infection and inflammation and most likely caused all of the bleeds and pain from the beginning," Cate surmised.

"A pen cap," House mused in frustration. "How they hell did you figure that out?"

Cate shrugged. "I've worked in a lot of ER's and seen all sorts of things swallowed by accident. Oral fixations can kill you."

Thirteen peered at the scan and laughed. "I'll say."

House ran his hand over his face and around the back of the tense muscles in his neck. "One brilliant doctor in charge of four not-so brilliant doctors and the fake doctor is the one that finds what's killing our kid. That's great." Cate frowned at him and he shrugged apologetically. "We've searched every orifice this kid has for week and we couldn't find anything and you stroll in here in and find it in two minutes. That's frustrating."

"Fresh set of eyes," she supplied with a shrug.

House opened his mouth to say something but bit it back and then stared at her for a moment, a childish little smile growing on his lips. He wrinkled his nose at her but the devilish look in his eyes told her that he was going to say something naughty about her. But, upon further consideration, he thought better of it because they were in mixed company. Having a hard time keeping it in, he shook his head to clear his thoughts and then winked at her.

"Schedule surgery to remove the pen cap and the kid will be just fine," he said to the room all the while keeping his eyes locked on hers. Cate felt a squeezing in her heart at the intensity of his stare. God, his eyes could melt her from across the room in two point five seconds flat. The group moved out of the room and House swiftly closed the distance between them threading his hand through the opening of her lab coat to pull her flush up against him. "You're pretty hot when you're diagnosing."

Cate laid her hands on his shoulders and smiled up at him feeling normal for the first time today. "Oh yeah?"

He slipped his thumb under the hem of her sweater and teased the skin to gooseflesh at her waist. "You want a job, I can fire Thirteen?"

Cate laughed. "We would kill each other if we worked together."

"Killing's not the word I'd use for it," he murmured an inch away from her lips. Liking where this was going, she flicked out her tongue to taste his lips, the softness contrasting with the roughness of his beard that was always so enticing. He let out a little groan and crushed his lips to hers as he dipped his tongue in, kissing her so thoroughly she thought she might topple over if not for his strong arm holding her to him. This is what she had been seeking out all day, the subtle reassurance that he was her man and happy to be with her.

"Oh God, sorry," came a voice from the doorway. It was Kutner.

"Out," House barked.

"Just grabbing the file," the young fellow apologized hurriedly as he raced in to retrieve his missing item. Rushing back out, he paused at the door with a goofy grin on his face and House practically growled at him. His littlest duckling was not threatened in the least. "Um… I just wanted to say congratulations, Cate. I think it's totally great that you two are married and that there's a baby House on the way."

Cate smiled and her breath caught in her throat. "Thank you Kutner," she said getting a little weepy. It was so nice to hear someone actually speak the words she'd been desperately wanting to hear for the past week.

House rolled his eyes. "Enough, get out of here before you make her cry. Which is really no big challenge these days."

Kutner smiled and waved before he turned to leave. Bringing his attention back to her, House looked down at her and wiped the small tear that had escaped from the corner of her eye.

Cate sniffled and rested her head against the lapel of his jacket. It smelled like him and she let the scent envelop her for a comforting moment. "I'm not having the best of days."

"I know," he said quietly over the top of her head. "You're hormonal."

Cate smacked at his arms in exasperation. "Yes. That too…"

"I don't know what to say to you," he confessed. "It'll get better?"

"Just stand there and hold me and don't say anything," she instructed. "That's all I need."

"Ok," he replied wrapping his arms around her and laying his cane down onto the light table behind her. His warmth circled around her and he absorbed all of the tension and frustration out of her as he held her tightly to him. They stood there linked in each others arms for a long time until Cate felt whole again.

She pulled back and looked up at him. His hand brushed her hair away from her face and he placed a tender kiss on her forehead making her smile. "I hate to say but I have a feeling there will be more days like this," she told him.

"Oh joy," he muttered faux excitedly.

"I'm sorry I pushed you," she said.

"I'm sorry I used 'wife' as a bad word," he replied.

"I promise to try not to nag you," she told him.

"Good," he nodded.

She looked up at him waiting for him to say something else, searching for some glimmer in his expression but coming up with nothing and she frowned.

"Oh, I was supposed to promise something back?" he questioned just getting the idea. He screwed his face into a thinking frown and she laughed smacking his arms again as he held her to him. "Yeah, not really coming up with anything."

"You…," she said shaking her head. "I love you, you pain in my ass."

He shrugged. "It's what I do best."

She smiled coquettishly at him and whispered something about his tongue into his ear. When she pulled away, he actually blushed. "Now that's what you do best."

"We are in the basement, there's no glass walls down here," he suggested with a wiggle of his eyebrows evidently over his momentary embarrassment. "We could go find a little corner?"

"Why Dr. House, that would be shameful," she teased.

He opened his mouth to say something but was interrupted by the ringing of his cell phone.  
_Mmmbop, ba duba do bop… Mmmbop, ba duba do bop…_

"Fuck," he growled yanking his phone off his belt. _Mmmbop, ba duba do bop… Mmmbop, ba duba do bop…_

"Somebody better be dead…" he shouted into the receiver.

"_Cheerleader's crashed_," Cate heard Thirteen say into the phone. She closed her eyes and frowned. _That was not good for anyone involved_.

"I'll be there in a minute." He clapped the phone shut and replaced it into its holster. "This is that last time I take two cases at the same time. It is severely cutting into my non-working work!"

Cate sighed again and brushed of the shoulders of his blazer fixing him so he was presentable. "I know. Save the cheerleader, save the world…"

"Come on, I'll ride up with you as far as the second floor." He grabbed her hand lacing her fingers in his as he quickly led her out of the room to the elevator. Pushing the button, he held onto her hand as he waited impatiently for it to come. Finally it did and they stepped in. He pushed the buttons for the second and sixth floors with his cane and waited for the doors to close before he took her into his arms again and kissed her until her knees buckled. The kiss ended as abruptly as it began leaving Cate dizzy.

Breathless, she whispered to him. "What was that for?"

"It's a promise for later," he answered, his voice hoarse with desire. "I love you. Don't forget that."

Her eyes held onto his. "I won't."

"Go home, get comfortable, wrap yourself in a blanket and forget about today," he told her. "I'll be home as soon as I can."

Cate smiled becoming a little misty eyed again. Maybe she lied to Wilson and to herself. He was taking care of her and telling her he was there for her in his own way. And it made her heart squeeze. He loved her deeply and nothing anyone could say or do would convince her otherwise. Fuck all of them who took pity on her for marrying him. They had no idea how sweet and caring he could be. Only she knew. She, and she alone, was the only one who mattered.

The doors slid open and he was out in a flash. Cate watched him limp hurriedly down the hall to the patient room, his familiar triple rhythm gate squeaking on the tile floor etched permanently in her brain. _The cyclone was coming, everyone… Look out._

HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

_A/N: This was actually part of the last chapter and I had to divide it into two parts because otherwise it would have been gianormous! So you get a bonus two chaps in one day!! And Khwaish these last two chapies are a little nod to you in reference to a comment you had made a bit ago about Cate losing her perspective a bit. I think it was actually in an email but nevertheless. Kudos to the good idea! Pregnancy hormones make you think crazy things and as Mary Sue as Cate can be sometimes…(I can't help but make her perfect. It's disgusting, I know….) I try to keep her as real as possible, even though I believe she is the perfect one for Him… I want her to have faults, and foibles so he has something to play off. I think he handled it well… its good practice anyway because nine months of irrational hormones is a long time! More angst, humor and romance to come… Enjoy._


	9. Chapter 9: Green With Envy

Sessions: Nine Months

Chapter 9: Green with Envy

"It's 8:40 in the morning," Wilson declared standing the doorway of House's office as if he had seen the second coming with his own eyes which of course he could never believe because he was only slightly less Jewish than Taub. "Did you sleep here?"

"No," he answered shortly. He was paying attention to not getting shot on his way up the hill to sniper the guy in the machine gun turret. Wilson's interrogation for this anomaly in the space-time continuum could wait.

Entering the office fully, Wilson approached the desk and came to perch on one of the chairs dropping his briefcase by his side. "Then why are you here so early?"

"Cate had a melt down," he mentioned off-handedly still focused on the screen of his PSP.

"Ah…" Wilson nodded his head in understanding as if clarity had rung its bell. "About anything in particular?"

"Her shoes don't fit," he stated. One, two shots and a miss. _Fucker was sneaky_…

"All of a sudden," Wilson questioned tilting his head to the side.

"Yeah," House muttered. "Apparently they fit yesterday and they don't fit today."

"Oh."

He maneuvered around the barricade wall and clamored up to the roof line so he could get a better perspective and shoot this mother fucker so he could get to the hostage without a rain of gunfire. "Did you know that the scream of a pregnant woman can actually make your ears to bleed," House asked him finally looking up from his game. "The Marines should use them to ferret out Osama bin Laden. I think it'd be a much more successful tactic."

Wilson choked back a laugh unsure whether or not House was in the mood for jocularity. House wasn't even sure himself if he was in the mood. This morning had thrown him for a loop and he wasn't positive he had recovered yet. With a frustrated sigh, he clicked off the handheld and tossed it onto his desk. He'd rescue the hostage later.

"I think I actually made it from the living room the bedroom in fifteen seconds," he surmised. "I didn't think I could actually move that fast."

Wilson nodded curiously. "That is pretty fast. That's like Olympic time right there."

"I know," House said. "Come to find out, she wasn't bleeding out or concussed or even severely constipated, just her _shoes_ and her _skirt_ and her _bra_ don't fit anymore."

Now Wilson did laugh. "Welcome to pregnancy."

"It's so fucking joyous, " House quipped sarcastically. "I don't get all of those stupid men who whine and carry on about how they feel so left out because they're aren't carrying the baby. Are they retarded? I don't envy her one bit."

Wilson leaned back in the chair and nodded. "No, me either. Why would we want to expand in every way possible, throw up every morning, have breasts so tender you could barely touch them."

House raised his eyes skyward. "God, I miss touching her breasts," he mused.

"Lisa practically bit my head off the other night, because I brushed her nipple by accident," Wilson complained. "I just happened to pass her in the kitchen. It's not my fault they stick out much further then before."

"Their tits get voluptuous and luscious and ripe and we're not allowed to touch them," he replied wistfully. "What kind of cruel law of nature is that?"

"It's down right criminal," Wilson agreed.

Both he and Wilson held a moment of silence in commiseration for their plight.

"The second trimester is supposed to be better," Wilson offered. "At least that's what the baby books say."

House narrowed his eyes at him. "You read the baby books," he scoffed. "You're a doctor for Christ's sake. Why the hell would you do that? Why would you _need_ to do that?"

Wilson shrugged sucking air like a fish as if he were searching for the logic in what he just said. "She wanted me to? They're very informative."

"Wuss," he scowled.

Wilson rolled his eyes at him. "Well, it would do you some good to be a little more supportive of her."

"What do you mean," he retorted "I support her."

"She's going through a lot of changes and is highly emotional, as evidenced by this morning, " Wilson countered. "You need to be there for her."

"I don't need to read baby books written for morons, to be there for her," he told him point blank. "I made her a sandwich with pickles the other night. I took her into the lion's den to show her the baby. I've endured the mood swings, the snarling attitude and the blood curdling screams, without being my usual self … I support her just fine."

"Pickles huh?" Wilson raised a dubious eyebrow.

"I touched pickles, dude. That's love."

"Yes, in the ancient German religions, touching pickles means you're soul mates, " Wilson stated.

"Dude, you know how much I hate pickles," he reminded him.

"Yes, I know," Wilson chuckled. "You are surprisingly a very good husband."

House pointed at him. "Judas… I knew you had your doubts."

Wilson looked down at his shoes. "Well, you have to admit…"

House snorted. "Please, I'm surprised myself. I don't do this… this… emotional stuff."

"It's a _good_ thing, House." His tone was sincere and overly caring and House rolled his eyes.

"Please don't get all weepy and tell me how fantastic it is that I've learned to love, " he drawled.

Wilson stood and picked up his briefcase. "Fine, then. I won't."_ He was leaving?_

House sat forward his feet slamming to the floor from the edge of his desk. "What? That's it?"

"You can't have it both ways," he told him. "Either you want praise or you don't. You can't order it up like Meg Ryan with a side of coleslaw."

House stared at him. "You can't use that movie as reference, it's like twenty years old."

Wilson stopped and turned back to him. "The fact that you even recognize that movie, is evidence that you are old enough to know that change is a good thing."

"Is the fact that I'm old enough to have seen _Love Story_ in the actual theater proof that I know that 'Love means never having to say you're sorry' too?"

Wilson threw his hand up at him. "You're an ass."

"And you are an insufferable care-er."

"Care-er?" Wilson smirked.

"Yeah, whatever," House groused. "Fred's taco stand for lunch?"

"Sure, sounds good."

HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

Cuddy and Thirteen were already sitting at the lunch table when Cate made it out from the psyche ward. As she skirted through line getting her lunch, she thought about the irony of that statement 'out from the psyche ward' because that's exactly where she belonged. She should be eating jell-o through a straw in a strait jacket. After her little 'blowup' this morning, she had forgone all forms of professional clothing and donned her pretty pink scrubs with a purple thermal underneath and turquoise crocs. She looked like a candy explosion but she didn't care, she was comfortable.

Cate approached the table not unaware of the fact that there was a certain member of the party missing. She brushed that thought to the side for the time being and sat down.

"Oh don't you look just divine," Cuddy teased as she dipped her fork into her dressing before stabbing at her salad.

"Go ahead, make fun," Cate admonished. "You have one week left before you're in my shoes or rather my stretchy pants and slippers because I can't fit into my fucking clothes anymore!" Her voice and her pulse had escalated on a dime again and she started to breath heavily.

"Take some slow, steady deep breaths," Thirteen instructed moving the empty chair that would normally have been Cameron's out of the way so she could check Cate's pulse. "You're becoming hypertensive."

Cate pinched the bridge of her nose and breathed deliberately in and out. She was having a really hard time getting over this. She loved her sultry skirts and sexy heels. She was a hot piece of ass damn it! She wasn't prepared to give them up just yet. "I had a serious, ser-i-ous… meltdown this morning, " she admitted with shame as she calmed herself and opened up her vanilla yogurt.

"What happened?" Cuddy asked with grave concern.

"First of all my tits are so big, I feel like Pamela Anderson in a training bra," Cate sighed.

"I love it that my tits are so big," Cuddy said. "They're my best asset. It makes me feel sexy."

"Shut up," Thirteen grouched taking a bite of her sandwich. "I'm lucky if I hit a B when I'm on my period. You don't get to brag about extra assets."

"Anyway, back to my psychotic break with reality, next I went to put on my skirt and I couldn't zip it," she recalled throwing in a handful of walnuts a little more forcefully that she intended. Cuddy picked one out of her salad and just placed it quietly on her tray.

Thirteen gave her a sympathetic frown eating a piece of lettuce that fell from her sandwich. "You can find skirts with elastic waists."

"Oh, that's not the half of it," she added her strawberries. Carefully this time. Cuddy eyed her circumspectly chewing her salad. Cate noticed that she was having a baby field green mix with grilled chicken today instead of the spinach. She had evidently taken her snide little comment about spinach and constipation to heart.

Cate covered her face in disgrace. "I flipped out like Lindsay Lohan when my Loubutains wouldn't fit."

Cuddy stopped chewing a swallowed with difficulty. "You just wore them yesterday."

"I know!" she hissed and then doubled back. "My feet grew in twelve hours."

"You're retaining water," Thirteen told her.

"You have to drink 8 ounces of water every hour," Cuddy informed her.

"I have to pee every five minutes," Cate looked at the hospital adminstrator like she had grown two heads. "My kidneys will float away."

"You need water to maintain the amniotic sac," Thirteen advised.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Cate dismissed her and then repeated for clarification. "MY FEET GREW IN TWELVE HOURS PEOPLE!"

Thirteen didn't respond. She just sat there and tried to hold back her grimace. Cuddy's eyes widened in fear because she knew it was her Manolos next.

"But the worst part was…"

"There's more?" Thirteen's eyes widened too.

"Oh yeah, after I stuffed myself into my clothes like a pig in a blanket and I tried to put my shoes on, I screamed like I had found a dead body in the closet. My head split open and the demon came out literally screaming like a banshee."

Now Thirteen snorted in laughter and Cuddy groaned. Cate nodded her head. "Yeah. Needless to say, it's good to know he can move at the speed of light if properly motivated."

"Oh, I'm sure that went over like a whore in church," Cuddy replied.

"Oh my god, he must have been pissed when he realized it was about the shoes," Thirteen exclaimed.

Cate shook her head. "No. He wasn't... he… I've never seen him like that." She stirred her yogurt contemplatively and tasted a bit. "He was as white as a ghost. Exactly this color." She pointed at her spoon. "I scared the ever-living shit out of him."

"Well that explains why he's been locked up in his office all morning looking like he caught his parents fucking," Thirteen laughed. "He's a little pale around the edges and hasn't said more than three words to us since he got in, which was at 8:30 by the way a full two hours earlier than normal. Totally freaked me out."

Cate bit back a laugh because it really wasn't funny. "Now that I'm lucid, and can actually see past the blinding rage, he was really so adorable."

"Oh yeah, like he's a regular fuzzy teddy bear," Thirteen remarked.

"Poor House," Cuddy said with a pout for him and then chuckled. "He was worried about you."

"I feel so shallow," Cate confessed. "I made a huge deal out of something so ridiculous and he just stood there and took it. He took it all like he was my bitch. I'm such a horrible person."

"You are a walking hormone factory," Thirteen told her. "I would think a regular break with reality is par for the course."

"It's karma," Cuddy said shaking her head. "He's like one of those monkeys that throws shit on people for fun and now it's finally coming back around on him. I say good let him deal with the insanity your going through."

"Are you not having any of these symptoms?" she asked Cuddy disbelieving her super, perky 'I'm loving every minute of my pregnancy' demeanor.

She shrugged her slim shoulders under her finely knit sweater and looked down at her extra-large cleavage. "Not yet," she relayed apologetically.

Cate shook her head. "Well beware. When it happens, it's like an out of body experience and heaven help Wilson if he gets in the way."

"So maybe the moral of this story is that you two need to go shopping," Thirteen suggested.

"I think you're right," Cate agreed.

"Shopping is always the right kind of therapy," Cuddy concurred.

"Kohl's is having a bra event," Thirteen announced. "I think I even have a recession-busting 40% off coupon."

Cate and Cuddy looked at each other and then at her.

"Oh, sweetheart, do you really shop at Kohl's for your lingerie," Cuddy asked her as if she were a pitiful street urchin.

"Bras and panties are never something to cheap out on," Cate said.

Thirteen pulled back and pretended that she wasn't offended. "I don't cheap out. I just don't waste money on clothing that patients pee and puke all over."

Cuddy softened her tone. "So you have good lingerie for when you're not at work?"

Thirteen made a face. "No." She rolled her eyes. "I don't waste money on clothes for outside of work either."

Cate leaned forward and grabbed her hand. "Never underestimate the power of a fabulous undergarment."

Thirteen snorted. "Like when House sent us on the quest for your thong?" she directed at Cuddy.

Cuddy preened. "Point in fact. The allure of sexy underwear, I don't even sleep with him and he knows what color my underwear is."

Cate raised her eyebrows at her friend. "How does he know that?"

"I have no idea," she admitted with a smirk. "I have green on today. Ask him later, see if he's right."

"I'm not going to ask my husband if he knows what color another woman's underwear is," Cate objected.

Cuddy shrugged and lifted her chin at Thirteen. "Then you ask him. He'll know and it'll prove my point."

Cate shook off the discussion of her husband's perverse knowledge base and went back to the crisis at hand. "Bra shopping. There is this adorable little boutique in the middle of town. I go there all of the time."

"Oh, I've been there," Cuddy said in recognition. "Jessica's Closet. They carry La Perla… to die for."

Thirteen scoffed. "La Perla? That's like a two hundred dollar bra. Are you insane?"

Cuddy adjusted her breasts to be yet even more rotund. "Look at the two of us. Are you going to put a Botticelli on just any foundation?"

"My Botticellis are a little more like Rothkos, flat and one dimensional," she countered sipping her iced tea. "Not worth two hundred dollars. No thanks."

"Please, I pay you a lot of money to compensate for working with House," Cuddy argued. "You should treat yourself, if not for that reason alone."

"Hey, " Cate warned. "That's my husband we're talking about."

Cuddy looked at her sympathetically. "He's only nice to you. You don't get battle pay."

"You should come with us," Cate said still glaring at Cuddy. "Get something nice and give Eric a little surprise."

Thirteen gave her a devilish smile. "I don't need great underwear to turn him on, however," she continued when they went to object, "It might be nice to see what his reaction is when I come out wearing a lacy thong instead boy shorts."

Cuddy squealed in delight. "So it's decided."

"Well go to Jessica's Closet on Saturday but we have to hit Pea in the Pod also, because I can't go running around looking like a bag of skittles for the next seven months."

"Honestly, why would you wear a purple thermal under those Pepto-Bismol pink scrubs," Thirteen asked in horror.

Cate rolled her eyes. "It's tragic. I know."

HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

Thirteen leaned her head in House's office door. His back was to the office and he was watching his soap on the small TV. She braved her way in and perched her rear on the corner of his desk. Her curiosty had been niggling her all day.

"Can I ask you a question?" she said.

He shrugged in indifference not really looking at her.

"What color is Cuddy's underwear today?"

"Green."

Thirteen almost fell off the desk. "How do you know that?"

"Bra's green. Upstairs always matches the downstairs. Haven't I taught you anything?"

She rolled her eyes. "What color is mine?"

"Black."

"That's just a lucky guess." She crossed her arms

He swiveled in his chair and looked at her. "You have on black boy shorts with a little green eyed cat on the back of the waistband."

"How the…"

He smiled lewdly at her. "Every time you bend over in those low rise jeans, I can see the crack of your ass."

HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

A/N: This whole chapter was inspired by a conversation with Khwaish. Thank you my muse…


	10. Chapter 10: Father Figure

Sessions II: Nine Months

Chapter 10: Father Figure

House slid the glass door open and entered Yeasty/Head Trauma/ Seizure Ridden Cheerleader's room. God he had to get her out of here because her name was getting too long to keep tagging on her afflictions. Thankfully, the Swiss Family Robinson was out to lunch and he could talk to her without having to deal with all of the drama. She was texting on her phone as her lunch sat untouched on the tray to the side of her bed. He was about as bored as she looked.

"Macaroni and cheese not doing it for you," he asked as he limped over to the bed.

"It's all carbs and fat," she said disgustedly, "and totally gross. I refuse to eat that."

He looked around for a stool but didn't find one and she motioned for him to sit down on the edge of the bed. "Good choice because it _is_ gross. I never steal that for lunch. But, I will take your pudding." She shrugged and he leaned over to grab it and the spoon.

"They came to change my medication this morning, does that mean I'm going home soon," she asked him. Her face was scrubbed clean of all make-up and her hair was shinny and strait. House shook his head. She looked so young, so innocent.

"Yep," he said taking a taste of the chocolate pudding. "Did they explain what was wrong?"

"They said I have Addison's Disease," she replied with an air of uncertainty.

Licking the spoon he eyed her for a moment. "Do you know what that means?"

"They said something about my kidney's not producing enough corti-something," she shrugged.

"Cortisol. Your pituitary gland produced too much corticotrophin to counteract the overload of cortisol which caused all sorts of things to go kaplooey," he explained.

She laughed at his goofy expression. "Is that an official medical term, kaplooey?"

"Yeah, you learn it the first year in med school," he muttered. "Corticotrophin excites the body into making excessive melanocyte-stimulating hormones and that's why your skin started to get tan around your knees and elbows which you… being the vainglorious teenager that you are… promptly covered up with extreme fake baking sessions making it oh so easy for us to tell that was going on thank you very much."

She looked down at her hands and gave him a small smile. "It was gross looking. I couldn't be all uneven like that especially with Mid-Winter Break coming up."

"God, going to Cabo all brown in weird spots is like so totally embarrassing," he mocked in his best valley-girl impression.

She rolled her eyes and clucked her tongue. "Please, you have no idea, what it takes to get into bikini shape."

"Went to Jamaica with the wife, believe me, I know," he said with an air of gravity placing the empty pudding cup back on the tray. The whole preparation thing from the waxing to the pedicure to the packing of just the right clothes was a strategic air strike planned by NATO. _Put clothes in a bag. How hard was that?_

"The grumpy old troll doctor said that I'd have to take this medicine for the rest of my life," she remarked in a small voice.

He nodded and laughed. _Taub_… at least he had been usurped as the grumpy old doctor in this case. "Yup. Any kind of stress, extreme heat and sweating can throw you back into an attack so you have to keep corticosteroids with you at all times. And you should get yourself one of those medi-alert bracelets."

"Do you think Tiffany's makes one," she mused optimistically.

He shrugged. "Who knows, probably… Shallow rich people have medical conditions too."

She made a face at him. "I'm not shallow."

He laughed. "Oh, ok, little miss I can't go to Cabo all uneven girl."

"Whatever," she griped and then checked her phone for a new text message. She flicked it shut and placed it back in her lap.

House looked at her and sighed as a nurse passing by the windowed wall with a cart caught his attention out of the corner of his eye. He needed to address the real reason why he had come in here and the time was ticking away. There wasn't much time before Tritter or the mother hen returned from lunch. "Listen, I need to tell you something before your parents come back. It's something that they don't need to know about but it's important that its addressed right away."

She peered at him through her thick dark lashes and took a deep breath in. "I know what you're going to say."

He leveled his eyes at her. "You're pregnant."

Her sigh came out on a little shudder and she ran her hand through her hair. He found himself letting out his own pent up breath feeling very ill at ease with her condition. He told himself it had nothing to do with his own situation with Cate and that he had these new, unfamiliar feelings about becoming a father. He convinced himself that it had nothing to do with how he would feel if his own daughter had become pregnant at seventeen, let alone was having unprotected sex. But, it was what she told him next that almost had him crawling out of his skin.

A tear slid from the corner of her eye and she turned her dark brown eyes at him. "It's my gym teacher's."

Thankfully, House was already sitting on the bed because he thought he might have fallen over if he was actually standing up. "You're having sex with your gym teacher?" His stomach turned at the thought of some perverted old man touching this beautiful young girl. He wanted to bludgeon this guys with his cane until he was a bleeding pile of mottled flesh. Good God, what was it about these girls that brought out these fierce protective feelings that made him want to kill this guy for violating her?

She nodded, tears free flowing down her cheeks. "He's also the basketball coach. We've been seeing each other for a few weeks."

House closed his eyes and took a breath. "Why are you dating a teacher? Aren't there plenty of horny teen age boys running around your school?"

"He's just so hot and he paid extra attention to me, " she said remorsefully. "It made me cooler than all the other girls." So evidently he wasn't an old guy. But that didn't matter. It was still revolting. And he still wanted to hurt him severely.

"Does anyone else know about this," he asked her.

"No," she replied. "I haven't told anyone, not even Chelsea and Kara. They would have told me not to."

"They would have been smart!" he shouted and then immediately calmed himself down looking up at the ceiling. "Why doesn't anyone ever listen to me? Didn't I tell you never to have unprotected sex? _Ever_?"

"He said that he loved me," she cried.

"After a few weeks? I told you boys, men, whatever… we're all pigs. We'll say anything to get into your pants," he exclaimed.

"I know that now," she said wiping at her tears. She dropped her hands defeatedly into her lap on the blanket. "What am I going to do? My father is going to shoot him."

"He _should_ shoot him," House barked roughly, realizing the irony of that statement coming from his own mouth. Never in his life did he think he would be on the same side of the fence as Tritter. "You know that this is statutory rape and I am obligated to report it because you're a minor."

Frantically she clutched at the sleeve of his sport coat. "No. Please. You can't. He'll kill him."

"It's abuse," he told her.

She cried harder. "I'm going to be eighteen in two weeks. Please Dr. House," she begged. "Please! You can't tell my dad."

"What so he can come after me when he finds out?" he countered. "That's not an option for me. If it comes down to me or the gym teacher who can't keep it in his pants, that's a no brainer. It's going to be him."

"He'll never have to know," she pleaded. "I want to make it all go away; I want to have an abortion."

"Why would you defend this guy and cover it up for him," he asked her confounded in her insistence to save this guy's ass. "He used you."

"Because," she began and looked away, shame slowly covering her features. "I pursued him."

"What?" he stared at her incredulously.

"I came on to him," she admitted. "He just didn't resist all that much."

House ran his hand over his face. When did the world change to a place where seventeen year old girls seduced older men? And why did he get the memo?

"That doesn't make it any less his fault," he admonished her. "He was the adult. You were the child. That makes it rape." He had a brief flashback to his little stalker a few years back, oddly enough during the same time Cheerleader's father was getting his kicks out of stalking him. His stalker practically threw herself at him and oh how he would have loved to take advantage of that singular opportunity. But, somewhere in his mind the lurking fear of prison kept his hands off of her. She young and a nubile and pert… and definitely every man's fantasy, but it was just so not right.

She frowned at his use of such a harsh term as 'rape'. "He didn't rape me," she whispered it like it was blasphemy. "I consented. I'm an idiot. I know."

"You're a dumb kid," he said. "What he is, is a selfish asshole."

"I thought I loved him," she argued. "That doesn't make me dumb."

"Whatever happened to having a crush on some guy but _not_ acting on it?" he asked stupidly showing his age. He sighed when she rolled her eyes at him. He could practically hear her eyes screaming 'You jut don't understand'. "It was dumb to engage your teacher into an affair. It was really dumb to have sex with him and it was exceptionally dumb to do it without protection because now you're pregnant."

She leveled her eyes at him seriously. "I don't want to have this baby. I want to go to prom, to go to college, to have a life."

"You want to terminate this pregnancy?" he asked her pointedly.

"Yes, I do," she replied.

He ran his hand over his jaw. "I can't schedule you for an abortion without your parents' consent."

She grabbed at his jacket again. "No! Please…"

He stared at her hand clutching the wool fabric of his jacket. "You can walk into any free clinic in the state and have it be totally confidential."

Her face softened and her eyes became less panicked. "I don't want to do this all by myself. You can't help me?"

He shook his head. "No. You want to be an adult then you have to handle it like an adult. I can get you information about where to go, but that's it."

"You promise you won't tell my dad," she pleaded.

"I won't," he promised her.

HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

What House didn't promise her was that he wouldn't go over to the high school to have a word with this pedophile Basketball Coach. It was after 9PM when the game let out and everyone in the crowd filed out of the gym leaving a few cars in the parking area around the gym exit. He wasn't really sure what possessed him to come to high school tonight but he kept telling himself that it was just a morbid curiosity. He wanted to see just what kind of asshole this guy was.

When the coaches finally left the building, House picked him out at once. He was a practically a kid. Broad shouldered, dark haired and baby faced. He couldn't believe any board of education would let a guy that looked like that work within a hundred yards of hormone ridden teenage girls. For the love of Christ, it was like dangling raw meat in front of a room full of starving cheetahs. Not that that made the situation any less reviling. For as young as this guy looked, he was still much older than his little cheerleader and he should have known to keep his dick in his pants; that you don't shit where you eat.

House waited until the coached waved goodbye to his co-workers before he approached him by his car. "Coach Douglas?"

The young teacher turned to the voice calling him from the behind. "Yeah, what can I do for you?"

House limped casually toward him and came to a stop right in front of him but a little close for comfort. "Good game tonight."

The coach eyed him warily because he didn't recognize him and because he was encroaching on his personal space. "Yeah, I'm proud of how they played tonight. The boys did good."

House nodded and looked around the empty parking lot illuminated in the amber light of the street lamp overhead. "It was too bad Amanda couldn't be here to see it."

The guy narrowed his eyes at him. "Who?"

House snorted a derisive laugh. "Aw come on, you know Amanda, the sexy little cheerleader you've been tapping for the past three weeks."

Coach Douglass shrugged. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Right, you know nothing about it," he said.

"Look man, I don't know who you are or what your beef is but…" he said turning to unlock his car door and blowing him off.

Suddenly, something in House snapped. He brought his cane up to the guy's neck and pushed him back forcefully against the door of his car getting in his face. He leaned his weight on the strong wood against this guy's throat effectively choking him. "You know exactly who I'm talking about. She's seventeen you stupid fuck. If I ever hear that you even so much as looked in her direction again, you'll be wishing you were able to breathe through only a tube."

Struggling for breath with the edge of House cane pressed up against his trachea, he swallowed a gulp of air with difficulty. "I get you, man. I won't touch your daughter again."

House pushed the cane harder and then backed it off and laughed at him menacingly before taking it down by his side stepping away from him. "Oh, she's not my daughter," he relied with twisted sense of mirth before becoming deadly serious. "If she were my daughter, I'd be removing your spleen through your asshole with my cane instead."

The kid brought his hand up to his throat and dragged in a large gulp of air. "I'm sorry. I swear."

"Good, because her father's a hell of a lot scarier than me," he said leaning in closer. "And he carries a gun." House limped off leaving the terrified kid shaking in his wake. He shook his shoulders inside of the sleeves of his coat. _God, that felt good._

HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

When House entered the apartment, only the side table light was on. Cate had texted him that she was going to bed shortly before he had his 'conversation' with the coach so he already knew that she was in bed asleep before he made it home. The place was eerily quiet except for Sexy Kitty's sweet little percolating as she rubbed against his pant leg in greeting. He shook his head as he hung up his coat. For ten years he had lived alone in a silent, empty apartment and in just a few short months, he was already used to the little noises and physical presence that came with sharing a home with someone. Since he's been home late the past couple of days, he missed seeing her sitting on the coach by the TV when he got home but it felt really good to know that someone was there waiting for him. It felt incredible to know he wouldn't be sitting alone on his couch drinking himself to sleep anymore.

Switching out the light, he hobbled down the hallway without his cane, and weapon of choice, and went to the bathroom. He took care of business and came into the bedroom through the adjoining door to the room. He could see her outline under the covers as he stripped his clothes off and stepped into his pajama bottoms. Sitting on the edge of the bed, he rubbed at the ache in his thigh. He was body tired but he didn't think he could sleep. There was so much stuff running through his head, so many thoughts about the predicament the cheerleader had gotten herself into, what he had just done in her name and how he would have felt if she had been his daughter. _Daughter_… the possibility that he was going to have a daughter in the coming year was kind of terrifying, especially after today. He didn't know if he was going to be ale to handle it. Somehow he thought that boys would probably be easier. Right?

Cate stirred behind him and turned over to face him. She ran her hand up his back and sighed contentedly.

"You're home," she murmured.

Slowly, he lay back against the mattress and let his head sink into the pillow before he rolled onto his side. She snuggled up against his back wrapping her arms underneath his, tucking her hands against his chest. He clasped her fingers in his hand and kissed them lightly before he tucked them closer to him snuggling into her warmth on a heavy sigh.

"What's bothering you," she chuckled.

"Who says there's anything bothering me," he said burying his smile into the pillow.

"The big puppy dog sigh you just let out," she replied. "That always means something's bothering you."

He chuckled and squeezed her fingers but his laugh died into the air. "Please tell me that we're not going to have a little girl."

Cate smiled against his neck. "Why? Would that be so terrible?"

"Yes."

This time she laughed lightly in his ear. "Why?"

"Girls have vaginas," he replied simply.

"Yes, girls tend to have vaginas," Cate said with an amused little tone.

He began to sigh again but then caught himself because she had told him it was his give away. "Girls have vaginas that boys like to put penises in."

"Ah, yes, that does happen. You are one of those boys. That's how we got this way, in case you forgot."

He sighed because he couldn't help it. "My little cheerleader is pregnant and I had to give her information where to go for an abortion so Tritter doesn't kill her and the gym teacher who got her pregnant."

"Oh," she said quietly against his shoulder. "That's not good."

"Now you see why I don't want a girl?"

"But it would be ok to have the boy who'd be putting his penis in her?"

"No, but it doesn't make me want to lock him in a closet until he's forty like I would if he were a girl."

Cate chuckled. "Don't you think my father feels the same way even though we're married now?"

Closing his eyes, he burrowed further into the pillow avoiding her question. It was stupid and irrational to feel this way. He knew it. And he didn't like that he was having these misgivings at all, because they were so not him. House didn't do protective, he didn't do fatherly. This was an anomaly and completely not in his genetic make-up, or so he thought.

"We have an appointment on Monday to see Sheldon," Cate said to him.

He flicked his eye open even though he could barely see her over his shoulder. "You're really still going to see him? Seriously?"

"Yes," she replied stubbornly. "And until some one gives me a valid reason why not other than 'you hate each other' then he's our guy."

House frowned. "Fine." He wasn't going to get into why they couldn't stand each other; there was already too much drama for one day and that was not a bridge to be crossed with out protection.

"Do you want to know the sex of the baby," she asked curiously out of the blue.

He shrugged and rolled over so that he could see her. He hadn't really thought about it until now, but it was a good question. "I don't know. Do you?"

She placed her hand on his chest and rested her chin on it. She eyed him sheepishly. "I'm a little bit of a control freak."

Laughing, he ran his hand over her hair. "A little?"

She eyed him pointedly through the darkness of the room. "Uh, so are you."

"It's way too early to tell," he reminded her continuing to run his fingers through her hair.

She shrugged. "It's something to think about."

"Yes, definitely something to think about," he agreed. Though, he wasn't sure if knowledge either way was a necessarily a good thing in this case… He might just be a little freaked, boy or girl.

HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

_A/N: Yeah, ok, maybe a little OOC. But then again isn't the whole thing OOC? Sorry for the late update, I really do hate to keep my peeps waiting!_


	11. Chapter 11: Shopping

Sessions II: Nine Months

Chapter 11: Shopping

The jingling of bells rang out as Cate pushed the door open to the charming little shop on Saturday morning. Immediately they were enveloped in the sweet, subtle scent of rosewater as the three doctors stepped into the high end lingerie haven of Jessica's Closet. Since they had discussed it yesterday it was all Cate could think about. She was excited to go shopping with her girl friends maybe more so than the prospect of being able to find some undergarments that fit her. It had been quite some time since the last time she had close girlfriends, let alone been shopping with someone. She had not yet experienced the nightmare of clothes shopping with House, nor did she think it would be a very productive excursion. The closest thing they had to that experience was the bed shopping and the grocery store. He was impatient and haphazard and usually in a rush to get out and that was when he was motivated to get something he wanted. Not to mention that it, more often than not, required some form of bribery or blackmail to get him to be a willing if not reluctant participant. Bribery usually involved sex, but who was she to complain about that.

They passed by some round tables with delicately laced panties displayed on them when Cuddy was immediately approached by the sales clerk. "Ah, Dr. Cuddy so good to see you," the young, finely dressed man greeted warmly with an air kiss to both cheeks. "And Dr. Milton too," he turned to Cate with an air of surprise. "It has been over a year since we have seen you."

Cate smiled and stepped into his embrace. "I was away for business for quite some time. But now I'm back," she said happily. As he pulled away, he grasped her left hand and gave her big eyes behind his black angular glasses.

"_Ay dios mio_, _estas casada_," he said coyly. "You, darling, went away to find a husband."

Thirteen scoffed as she watched the exchange. "No, she found that gem of a man right here at home."

He turned to Thirteen and gave her an appraising once over. "And who is this exquisite specimen with the spicy tongue?"

Cuddy extended her hand in a bridge of introduction. "Juan Carlos, this is Dr. Remy Hadley, she is a friend and colleague of ours at the hospital."

Thirteen took his hand in a handshake glowing from his astute assessment of her. "So nice to meet you."

Juan Carlos clapped his hands together and smiled excitedly. "So, what can I do for you ladies today?"

Cuddy smiled. "This is Remy's first time here and she needs some fabulous lingerie."

Juan Carlos clutched her hands and extended her arms out to the side taking in her form. "Then you my darling have come to the right place."

Remy blushed a little under his perusal and looked at Cate with wide eyes. "But, we're mostly here because these two buttinskies need maternity bras."

Juan Carlos dropped her hands and put both of his to his cheeks. "_Ay, que maravilloso, estan embarazadas! Estoy tan feliz por ustedes! No se preocupen. __Vamos a equiparles con todo que necesitan__._" Cate was dizzy with the flurry of Spanish that came pouring out of the young man's mouth. Whatever he said, he was clearly excited for them and she had no worries that they would be well taken care of.

Cuddy beamed as Juan Carlos gave her another hug and then turned his loving embrace back to Cate.

"Ok _Mamitas_, let's get you naked so we can measure," he exclaimed giving them a gentle shove toward the dressing area. "You too _Flaca_. _Ven aca_."

Thirteen gave them a wary look as he escorted them back to the large elegantly decorated dressing room. Discreetly, he left them to undress down to their underwear.

Cuddy took off her short little swing coat and placed it on the settee with her purse and gloves. "Juan Carlos is the best bra fitter in the Princeton area. Mark my words, your girls will feel like they are floating on air."

Cate followed suit sitting down by her down coat and began taking off her boots. "I found this place a couple of years ago when Juan Carlos was still in college. His grandmother owned it and when she died, she left it to him. He has such impeccable taste and completely understands what women need." She stood up and unbuttoned her jeans letting her stomach out on a breath. The stretch in the denim was rapidly coming to the threshold and she couldn't wait to see what she could find at _Pea in the Pod_ in the way of pants.

Thirteen removed her sweater to reveal a simple cotton bra and boy shorts. She looked comfortable, covered and very much like an adolescent. It was most certainly time to get her to appreciate the nuances of being an alluring woman.

Removing her own jeans, Cuddy folded them neatly and added them to her pile. "So was I right?"

"About what," Thirteen asked.

"About my underwear?" she eyed Thirteen. "Did House know?"

Thirteen frowned sympathetically at Cate. "He knew. And not only did he know yours but he knew mine. Which means I can never go without wearing my lab coat around him if I have on low rise jeans anymore."

Cate laughed. "He is nothing if not exceptionally perceptive." She took off her sweater and admired herself in the floor to ceiling mirror. Her skin was just the right shade of golden tan from Jamaica, not too dark or too light, and her figure was still more or less intact. The changes were subtle but distinct enough to require a new wardrobe. Anyone who didn't know her intimately would not even know she was pregnant yet, save for the small little bump that was protruding from her belly which could have been mistaken for general flab. She touched her hand to her rounded bump protectively wondering how long it would take for the baby to grow to the telltale little beach ball that would announce her pregnancy to the world.

Cuddy came up along side her and stood reflecting her in her pose with a smile. She too was tanned and toned with very subtle changes to her physique other than her large voluminous breasts and rounded baby bump.

Thirteen laughed coming between them draping her arms over both of their shoulders in a sisterly hug. "You two are pathetic, you know that right?"

Cate and Cuddy glance at her in the reflection of the mirror.

"How so," Cate asked.

"You both are absolutely gorgeous and you're complaining about having breasts the size of watermelons?" Thirteen admonished. "Look at me, I look like Miley Cyrus before she hit puberty." She gestured to her lean figure in the mirror. She was all alabaster skin, long lean appendages and washboard abs, the quintessential ethereal waif.

"Hey, I never complained about my big breasts," Cuddy reminded her. "I just need a better shelf to hang them on."

Cate laughed. "If you need a _shelf_ then I'm guessing I need a whole armoire."

Thirteen laughed at her and hugged her around her neck as they stared at each other in the mirror. "I'm guessing Big Daddy's not complaining either."

Cate chuckled and rolled her eyes. "The only thing he's complaining about is that he can't touch because they hurt so much."

"Oh good God, tell me about it," Lisa said stepping away from them. "I though I was going to actually start crying the other night when James touched me."

Juan Carlos knocked tactfully on the door. "Ladies, are we ready to measure?"

"Yes, come in," Cuddy answered.

Gracefully, Juan Carlos entered the room with a long tape measure around his neck. "Who wants to be first?"

Thirteen pushed Cate forward. "Let's get these puppies reigned in before they hurt someone."

Juan Carlos eyed her and shook his head disapprovingly. "_Ay Mama_, you must be so uncomfortable."

Cate looked down at her chest and frowned at the cleavage spilling over the edges of her bra. "That is the understatement of the year." She held her arms out to the side as he wrapped the fabric tape measure around her ribcage mentally recording the number before moving up to the fullest part of her bustline.

"Mmm, darling you are now a double D," he informed Cate before moving on to Cuddy effortlessly repeating the same ministrations. "And you, my sweet, are a D." He took the tape measure away and pushed his glasses up with his index finger. "You will both probably go up another cup size before the end of the pregnancy so you will have to come back and be refitted again."

Cate jiggled her breasts further into the cups of her bra futilely. "That two cup sizes bigger in two months, my god."

"I'm up a cup size," Cuddy added. "Yea!" She gave a little shimmy admiring the way her breasts shook to and fro. Cate laughed at her marveling at her excitement over ever step in her pregnancy. Cuddy was having the time of her life.

Thirteen rolled her eyes, smiling at the side of her boss that she'd never thought she'd see and reluctantly stepped forward. Juan Carlos wrapped the tape around her rib cage. "What size do you normally wear?"

"36 A," she replied.

"Mm, mm, no, no, you are a 32," he informed her and then moved upward. "And your cup size dearest is a C."

Thirteen pulled back and stared at him with her hand on her hip. "What? A 'C'. How is that possible?"

"Oprah says, eighty percent of all women are in the wrong bra size," he informed her. "We've reduced your band size because your rib cage is small and that means that you increase the cup size. Your bra should sit against the skin in between your breasts." He touched his fingers deftly in between her breasts to indicate where he was talking about. "It should never ride up in the back like this here." He turned her and indicated the arcing bow of the band. "This means the weight of your breast are pulling your bra forward and down. Which means the band of the bra is too big."

Thirteen widened her eyes and shrugged impressed with his assessment. "Wow, who knew it was so complicated."

"Bra fitting is an art as much as it is a science," Cuddy told her still admiring her robust cleavage and her tiny baby bump.

"I'll be right back with some things to try on," Juan Carlos announced and left them.

"I'm 'C'," Thirteen squealed and did a little dance.

"Congratulations," Cate chuckled and sat down deciding to check her Blackberry for any messages.

She caught herself smiling when she saw that House had texted her. Chastising herself for being such a girl, she opened the message.

::I like the black ones with the lace. Very sexy::

She chuckled to herself and typed in a response. ::You could have come with…::

She waited for the phone to vibrate in her hand.

Thirteen clucked her tongue at her and placed her hands on her trim hips. "You better not be talking to a _boy_," she chastised. "This is _girls_ day."

"I'm just checking in," she said sheepishly. His response came in. ::Hells no! I only reap the benefit::

::We're going for lunch after we finish shopping::

"Just checking in my ass," Thirteen muttered.

"Ah leave her alone," Cuddy warned. "She's a newlywed."

::Wilson's bringing pizza and beer. Game starts at 1::

::Gotta go. Getting yelled at for interrupting girls day::

::Tell the lesbian and the she-devil to fuck off. I'll talk to my wife as much as I want::

::Have fun with Wilson. Luv you. Bye::

::Back at you ;) ::

Cate locked the keyboard of her phone and placed it back into her purse. "Pizza, beer and football… Girls day can last indefinitely."

Cuddy rolled her eyes and then turned around smiling. "Since we'll have all afternnon, maybe we can stop at that cute little shop, Bambini, to look at baby stuff."

"Oh, that's a great idea," Cate exclaimed.

"You know a boutique for baby stuff," Thirteen cried. "Are you guys like professional shoppers?"

Cate laughed. "I'm a clothes snob."

Cuddy shrugged. "And I have an addiction to shopping in a lot of nice stores."

Thirteen shook her head. "You guys are going to cost me a fortune today aren't you?"

Cate and Cuddy looked at each other. "Yes."

HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

Cate juggled her bags as she entered the apartment later that afternoon. They had gone on a whirlwind shopping spree that took them well past lunch and concluded near the dinner hour. Her stomach was growling and she was exhausted but she was thrilled beyond belief. She had underwear, bras, jeans, skirts, pants, and tops to last her for a while. She had spent about the entire amount of her last paycheck but it was so incredibly worth it.

House was parked comfortably on the sofa with Sexy Kitty on his chest as he watched TV. Beer bottles littered the coffee table along with an empty pizza box as testament to the little man party he and Wilson had over the _Giants_ game. He craned his neck to look at her over the arm of the sofa which was a movement that seemed to disturb Sexy Kitty enough to forgo her spot in search of one that didn't move on a moment's notice.

His brow furrowed in amazement as his eyes landed on the cluster of shopping bags dangling from her hands. "Are there any clothes left for the other women that live in New Jersey?"

Cate grinned as she came in and placed the bags on the floor by the beginning of the hallway. Hanging up her jacket in the closet, she replied, "I left a little bit left for the others but when it comes to clothes, it's winner takes all."

"Did you get me sexy underwear?"

Cate came over to the sofa and scooched him over with her hip leaning over to rub her nose against his. He smelled like beer and sleep. "I got you that man thong in purple spandex you've been talking about. I was going to get the one with the cheetah print and the sparkles but I figure that was a little over the top."

He laughed. "I like sparkles. I look good in sparkles." He brushed her hair back over her shoulder and grinned at her as he pulled the V neck of her sweater open to peek inside. He raised his eyebrows in appreciation. "Mmm, black lace. You did get me sexy underwear."

"Double D's baby," she divulged saucily.

He closed his eyes on a groan of ecstasy. "Yes! You know, I used to pay good money for those."

Cate pulled back and glared at him in disgust. "You just killed it." He was lucky she was in an exceptionally good mood or that comment might have tipped the scales of the hormonal typhoon.

He rolled his eyes. "Oh come on."

"Nope. You killed it," she said with a chuckle as she got off the couch going over to the bags.

"What are you doing?" he asked, his eyes following her.

She pulled out the miniature shopping bag with a Spring Green ribbon handle from _Bambini_ and came back over to the sofa. "Look what I got."

"A really expensive gift bag?" he replied warily as he looked at the whimsically decorated package.

"No. Look inside," she instructed impatiently.

He eyed her for a second and then peered inside the bag. When he saw what was inside, he lifted the corner of his mouth into a wry grin and then reached his hand into the opening. He pulled out a tiny little pair of newborn footie jammies. "Well aren't these adorable," he said, trying to keep his unmistakable sarcasm at bay. He lifted them up to look at them fully, an involuntary smile stealing slowly over his features.

Cate smiled at him and bit the corner of her lip. She wondered if he thought she was being silly overly eager buying clothing for the baby they had only just recently discovered they were having.

He raised an eyebrow at her. "What happens if it's a Yankee's fan?"

Cate gasped at him. "Gah! Bite your tongue," she admonished taking the little Phillies pj's from him fingering the thin red stripes on the whisper soft white cotton. "Not in this house, they won't."

He sat up taking her face in between his hands and kissed her lightly on the lips. "You are adorable, you know that?"

"So I hear." Cate giggled and threw her arms around his neck. "I know it's too soon but I couldn't help myself."

Rubbing his hands down her arms and taking her fingers in his, he kissed at her finger tips. "You're allowed to be excited," he told her.

She sighed leaning forward, giving him a kiss. "I was afraid I wasn't going to be, but I really am." When he didn't say anything right away, Cate looked into his eyes to see if there was an unspoken response there. She didn't want to push him into a conversation about it so she let it go. His not making fun of her for buying baby clothes for a two inch long baby was enough to tell her that he was feeling pretty good about where they were at the moment. So, she pulled back and placed her hands on his lap sitting up tall instead. "But, right now, I'm hungry. Again."

"It is dinner time," he agreed dropping his hands from her arms. "Let's go grab some food."

"Ihop this time. I want country fried steak and eggs and strawberry pancakes," she said pulling him up as she stood.

"That baby has some really weird taste buds," he said following her to the closet to retrieve their coats.

"Tell me about it," she said slipping back into her down jacket. "I put duck sauce on my beef and broccoli today at lunch. I thought Thirteen was going to throw up."

He cringed outwardly and placed both of his hands on her hips. Kneeling down on his left leg, he leaned in close to her stomach. "You have to stop making your Mommy eat these really disgusting things. Daddy likes to eat with Mommy and if you keep making her put foods that don't belong together, Daddy's not going to want to eat with Mommy anymore."

Cate laughed and ran her fingers through his hair as he kissed her belly under the edge of her sweater. He was talking to their unborn child. It was adorably precious. And it was her nonverbal confirmation that he was a little excited about this too. "I thought you had a cast iron stomach?"

He rose stiffly and then kissed her nose. "I do. I just don't want to watch you eat that stuff, because it's just gross."

"Yeah, well, whatever Baby wants, Baby gets."

"Isn't that the truth," he muttered looking over her shoulder at the pile of shopping bags on the floor.

Cate eyed her parcels out of the corner of her eye and then turned back to him and smirked. "If you endure dinner with me, in whatever form it comes in, I promise I'll give you a little fashion show of my new bras and panties?"

"Hot fudge on tuna sounds good to me."


	12. Chapter 12: Doctor's Visit

Sessions II: Nine Months

Chapter 12: Doctor's Visit

House hopped over the wall between his office balcony and Wilson's. It was beginning to snow outside and he'd been looking out over the edge of the balcony to the street below when he saw the telltale movement of his friend's lab coat out of the corner of his eye. At first he had just thought it was a snowflake stuck to his eyelash but upon further inspection he determined that Wilson had returned from his rounds and was ready to settle in with his ever present paperwork. It was time to bug Wilson, if not for the sheer amusement of it than for the niggling suspicion lurking in the front of his brain that today was not going to go well.

"Thirty seconds," Wilson chimed as House folded himself into the chair in front of his friend's desk.

"Thirty seconds?" he questioned him with a tilt to his head. "You should think about baseball or golf, something monotonous. It will help you last longer."

Wilson stared at him, confused for a moment and then rolled his eyes at him egregiously with realization. "No. It took you exactly thirty seconds to notice that I was in here before you came in to keep me from doing my paper work."

House made and exaggerated face. "Oh, that... Because I was going to say…dude, a little too much sharing going on. I was almost going to feel bad for poor Cuddles. Women need more than thirty seconds for damn sure."

Wilson scoffed. "You feel bad? And for Cuddy, pshaw… I'd be looking for the rain of Hellfire and pigs with wings signifying the end of days."

House nodded. "Yeah, my feeling bad for Cuddy would definitely mean the world was coming to an end."

Wilson adjusted a stack of files to the center of his blotter and opened the top one before clicking his pen. "Isn't today Cate's first appointment with Sheldon?"

House leaned forward and rested his chin on the curve of his cane. "Yeah."

"Ah…" Wilson acknowledged knowingly.

"Ah? What is that tone supposed to mean?" he muttered repeating his inflection condescendingly.

"It means 'Ah ha' that's why you're in here," he replied confidently.

"It's not until 4:00," he groused. "I'm not hiding, if that's what you're getting at."

"No, but you are afraid it's not going to go well," he told him.

House shrugged in disagreement. "I'm not afraid. I just know it's not going to go well. The guy's a moron."

Wilson eyed him pointedly. "You may not see eye to eye on treatment but that's not what the real problem is and you know it."

"Yeah, there's that and the fact that that the guy's a moron," House countered.

"Are you going to tell her about what happened?"

House stared at him incredulously. "What are you a moron too? I'm an asshole but I'm not an idiot. I'm not going to tell her anything about what happened. And neither are you." He glared at him to punctuate his point.

Wilson made a face. "It might make her change her mind."

House ground out a bitter laugh. "Ha. The woman is so stubborn she'd stick with it just to prove that she's above it all and that it didn't bother her in the slightest. There's no way she's going to change her mind."

Wilson grimaced and then shrugged. "When then you better wear a cup."

House snorted out a derisive laugh. _Yeah, that's what he was afraid of…_

HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

Cate looked at her watch again for the fifth time in as many minutes as she sat in one of the chairs in the office waiting room. He was late. She should have bet money that he was going to be late. Cuddy had told her to expect as much which was why she had told him 4:00 so that he would actually be there by 4:30 when her actual appointment was. It was 4:25 and it looked like the doctor was a little backed up. At least if he was going to be forty-five minutes late it would really only be like fifteen.

Casually, she tried to relax by flipping through the pages of one of the many parenting magazines that were neatly displayed in a clear magazine rack across the small waiting room. Unfortunately none of it really interested her. All of the women in the magazine seemed like Stepford Mom's in a little mom cult complete with a rule book for bedtimes, feeding schedules and diaper changes. House would never, ever acclimate to something as structured as that. And for that matter neither could she.

Cate laid the magazine on the little coffee table and looked around the pale yellow and mauve decorated waiting room of Dr. Kurt Sheldon's office inside the hospital. There were two other women there also waiting to see the doctor. One looked like she was about to give birth to an tiny elephant or was about to lift of like a hot air balloon any second now, and the other one had to have been peri-menopausal by the way she was hot flashing. She was all red and blotchy along her neck and had a thin sheen of sweat on her upper lip as she waved herself unsuccessfully with one of the many magazines.

The door opened with a sharp pull and a click and he entered with a look of aversion on his face. His eyes were big and his head was dipped low in his usual manner when he was uncomfortable with a situation. She knew this was difficult and annoying for him and she did appreciate the effort put forth. He could have simply blown it off but he had agreed to be with her every step of the way and this was one of those little steps. He wasn't happy he was here, but nevertheless he was indeed here.

"Dr. House?" the young nurse from behind the counter questioned with suspicion.

"I'm with her," he murmured pointing in her direction with the lollipop he had taken from his mouth.

The nurse's eyebrows shot up about two inches with dubious surprise. "Okay. Have a seat."

He narrowed his eyes and limped heavily over to where Cate was sitting before slumping himself into the chair next to hers. He stretched his legs out and dropped his cane in between his thighs resting it on his bad leg. He was tense and barely keeping it in and Cate eyed him from underneath her lashes.

"He's running late," House complained as he looked at his own watch.

"Just a little," she replied keeping her eyes trained on her thumb and forefinger twisting her wedding rings.

He quirked an eyebrow at her curiously. "What time was this appointment?"

Busted, Cate leveled her eyes at him. "4:30."

"You sneaky bitch," he said, an approving little grin tipping at the corner's of his mouth.

Cate smiled at him. "I'm getting better at knowing how to play the game."

He sucked on his lollipop and tipped it at her. "I'll remember that."

"Dr. House," the receptionist called.

"Yes." They both answered in unison and then stopped to look at each other. A little smile crinkled at the edges of his eyes. "She probably means you," he said.

"I'm going to need a urine sample," the nurse informed her holding out a little plastic cup with a blue lid.

House made a face. "She definitely means you."

Cate chuckled at him. "Ya think?"

Rising from the chair, Cate took the cup and went into the back of the office to the restroom to leave her urine sample for them to confirm the pregnancy test. A few minutes later, she returned to the waiting room and to House who was sitting in the same spot but flipping through the magazine she had abandoned before he arrived.

"8 ways your baby says I love you? Getting the schedule right? Green diapers?" he read out loud. "What is all of this shit?"

Cate pulled the magazine from his hands and tossed it back on the table. "Don't read this."

"I know that people are idiots, but are they really that dumb that they have to make a magazine to tell them how to feed their baby or which diapers to pick?"

Cate turned to him and spoke in a quieter voice hoping that it would encourage him to not be so vocal. The elephant mom was looking at him like he was the biggest jerk on the planet. "Do _you_ know which diapers are better for the baby and the environment? I don't think they had that in the latest Nephrology Journal?"

House rolled his eyes at her. "No, but I do know that a baby's kidneys should pass and filter between 30-60ml of daily urine in the first two days after birth and that amount will increase to 300ml over the first week. Green, cloth or landfill filling diapers aren't going to tell you that," he stated arrogantly.

Cate opened her mouth to retort back but the nurse called them in to get weight and BP. She went to follow the nurse but House remained sitting. Narrowing her eyes at him, she nodded with her head to insist that he follow her. Reluctantly and ever so slowly, he peeled himself out of the chair and limped after her into the back area of the office. The petite nurse led them to the exam room where she handed her a gown to put on and left a paper drape for her waist. "You know the drill, everything off but the socks if you want. Leave the gown untied. Dr. S will be in shortly." She clicked the door shut leaving them in the cold, grayish room.

"Dr. S," he repeated snidely. "Is that short for Shit-for-Brains?"

Cate took off her sweater and bra and placed them on the chair before she slid her arms into the backless gown. Leaving it open she removed her comfy waist band pants, which he had a not-so-nice comment for earlier that morning, and her panties and added them to the chair. "You promised…"

"The words 'I promise' never actually came out of my mouth," he argued playing with the inflation bulb on the Baumanometer.

"Greg, please," she begged as she sat up on to the table draping the paper cloth over her lap. The paper covering the table crinkled under her butt and she closed her eyes at the surrealness of the whole situation. Being at the OB/GYN was humiliating enough and here she was sharing it with her extremely difficult and temperamental husband who thought he was a hundred times better of a doctor than the one who was going to be shoving a speculum into her vagina in front of him. _Yeah. Good times_…

House assumed a casual pose leaning against the wall with his arms crossed boredly over his chest. Cate tapped her fingers on the edge of the padded exam table and prayed that this was going to go smoothly. On second thought, maybe she should have let him pick the doctor…

There was a knock on the door and she called for the person to come in.

Dr. Sheldon entered swiftly with a bright smile on his face. "Hello Cate. How are we today?" He was in his blue scrubs and lab coat and his dark hair gleamed with its salt and pepper under the fluorescent lighting. He took one look past her to House and his expression changed dramatically. His usual warm eyes turned a dark shade of umber and his jaw set firmly. "House."

Cate's eyes danced back and forth between the two men in this Mexican standoff. House narrowed his own eyes at Sheldon and lazily took the lollipop from his mouth. "Sheldon."

Sheldon looked at his chart and raised an eyebrow before turning back to give Cate a quizzical, if not comical, look.

Cate sighed. "Yes. He's my husband."

Sheldon plastered a forced smile on his face and nodded. "Okay…" He flipped through the pages for a second and then put the file onto the counter. "Your pregnancy test is positive. Congratulations. Both of you," he added pointedly.

"Thank you," Cate said assuming the role of patient.

"We're going to do an internal exam and a sonogram to determine how far along you are and when your due date is," he told her.

"The fetus is nine weeks. Her due date is August 15th and the placenta / chorionic villi is located in the right horn of the uterus," House listed succinctly completely overriding his authority.

Cate closed her eyes and smiled politely for a breath before speaking. "He did an ultrasound last week."

Sheldon stared at House looking like he wished that he had Superman's heat vision so he could bore a whole right through his arrogant face. "Anything else you'd like to add, Dr. House?"

"Fetal heart rate was 154 and strong, length was just over one inch," House stated from his position. He punctuated his facts with a superior tilt of his head.

Sheldon went back to the folder and recorded the information House gave, albeit reluctantly. While his back was to them, Cate shot daggers at House with her eyes. He shrugged innocently as if he had done nothing wrong. Technically he hadn't, it was more his condescending attitude that she was calling into question.

When Sheldon was done, he wheeled the stool over to the foot of the exam table. Cate shift back and lay down finding the stirrups with her feet. "If it's alright with you, I'm going to do a vaginal exam or did you already do that too?"

House came off the wall. "No. I never mix business with pleasure."

Sheldon snorted derisively. "Oh that's rich!"

"But we all know that you most certainly do," House countered.

Cate closed her legs and rocket upright. "Alight. That's enough." She shot both of them a warning glare that told both of them they better stop this dick measuring contest and fast. "You are the doctor." She pointed at Sheldon. "And you are the husband. Your medical license gets left at the door. Let the man do his job."

"Yeah, I'm good at that," he quipped sarcastically at her. Cate raised her eyebrows and forced the issue. He looked for a second like he was going to fight her but dialed it back enough that she was satisfied enough that he wasn't going to say anything that might spark another verbal sparring match.

Cate lay back down and got into position mentally preparing herself for the exam. Even though she was a doctor and a psychiatrist, she was loath to admit that she suffered a little from white coat syndrome, especially when it came to the gynecologist. It was just never a pleasant experience. Closing her eyes, she turned her head away so she wouldn't have to look at either of them. This was mortifying enough, she didn't have to see either of them while it was happening. Gently, she felt his hand rest comfortingly on her shoulder letting her now that he was there and she reached both of her hands up to clasp onto his fingers. Keeping her eyes closed, she turned her cheek to rest on the back of his hand. It was a simple gesture but it was huge considering how he couldn't stand to let people see his true emotions, especially not someone he had such an adversarial relationship with.

"Just a little pressure," Dr. Sheldon said as he proceeded to check her internally. He fished around in there for what felt like an eternity before finally removing the speculum to manually palpate the top of the uterus and ovaries. Cate curled her toes at the firm, uncomfortable pressure counting the seconds until it was over. Mercifully, House was quiet.

"Everything looks good," he announced removing his gloves and placing them in the trash. "I want to do an internal ultrasound to get a clear picture of the baby."

Cate nodded and squeezed Greg's hand as she waited for Sheldon to set up the transducer probe. This time the baby's heart beat was even faster and it came into clear view on the screen immediately. It was indeed more baby-like than last week. "Look, the head is bigger. I can see where it is," she pointed out excitedly.

"See here, this blur," Sheldon pointed to the screen. "It's moving its legs. You've got a soccer player already."

Cate misted up as she looked at Greg staring at the monitor screen. He was serious, but there was unmistakable pride in his eyes. He was as affected by this as much as she was; he just wasn't going to let Sheldon know it.

"Heart beat is 172 BPM, size almost an inch and a half," he told them as he jotted the notes down in the chart.

"Print two of those," House ordered gruffly and Sheldon clicked the mouse without argument.

Switching off the monitor and moving the cart out of the way, Sheldon came back to sit on the stool but wheeled it over to the side indicating that she could sit up. She removed her feet from the stirrups and pushed herself up. "Now, because you're over thirty-five, we have to talk about the potential for birth defects."

Cate reached out to hold Greg's hand again and he dutifully gave it to her as she listened to Sheldon talk. "We're going to draw blood and do the normal range of testing, but you'll have to do a Quad Marker screening for neural tube defects, an amnio and I also suggest a Chorionic Villus Sampling."

Cate took a breath as the reality hit her that there could be a possibility that their baby might not be healthy. "How soon do we do all of this?"

"Not right away," House told her. "The tests need to be done after 15 weeks."

"They're routine but necessary," Sheldon assured her. "It's nothing to get yourself worried over for the next couple of weeks, in fact, you should forget about them totally because you shouldn't be stressing yourself out about anything." He looked at her chart again and nodded. "You BP is a touch high. We need to keep that in check."

"She has Reynaud's," House mentioned.

Sheldon frowned at her disapprovingly. "It doesn't say that here in the chart as a change in medical history. Because you didn't put it down."

"We have to monitor your blood pressure and keep your circulation free," House said.

"Why?" Cate asked and then doubled back. "I mean I know why, but what does Reynaud's have to do with it?"

Both House and Sheldon began talking at the same time.

"Reynaud's effects your circulation…"

"Reynaud's can cause preeclampsia…"

"Why would you tell her that?"

"Why would you not?"

"Because, she's already hypertensive, why give her something to worry about?"

"She's not an idiot; she has the right to know that her body can turn on her."

"Her body is not going to turn on her."

"You're not God, you can't predict that."

"You certainly aren't and you can't predict that it won't."

"Here we go with the radical, let's scare the crap out of the patient unnecessarily…"

"And here we go with the namby, pamby, hold the patient's hand so they don't get all terrified with the reality of their situation…"

"Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!" Cate hollered running her hands through her hair. "Both of you shut the hell up!" She hopped off the table and stalked across the tiny little room with her hand on the small of her back pulling her gown closed behind her. "Listening to the two of you go at each other like pit bulls in a dogfight is making me hypertensive."

They both stared at her like little boys caught kicking dirt on each other on the playground.

"I can't have the both of you like this over every little disagreement," she proclaimed. "I need both of you to be calm for me because I'm the one who's got the tiny human growing inside of her."

House dipped his head to stare at the floor. He screwed his mouth into a twisted frown no doubt reigning in his tongue from saying something that might piss her off further. Sheldon softened his look and appeared chagrinned and a little embarrassed that he was so easily baited by House.

"I don't know what issues there are between you but I have to know you're both on the same side, on _my_ _side_," Cate implored. She looked at House who nodded at her once indicating his recognition of her plea. Turning her eyes to Sheldon, she said, "Kurt, I want you to be my doctor. I am well aware of how he operates, but you have to understand that he would never do anything to jeopardize me or the baby."

"I'm sorry Cate. It won't happen again," Sheldon assured her. He looked over sharply at House waiting for his turn at the apology.

Cate waved her hand at him. "You can stand there 'til your blue in the face. He'll never apologize to me in front of you, so don't even bother waiting."

House shot him a triumphant grin. Sheldon shook his head and sighed defeatedly. "I'll see you in three weeks."

"Excellent," House added with mock excitement.

Cate nailed him with a look before turning to smile at Sheldon. "Three weeks it is."

Sheldon left the room leaving them alone. "Well that went better than I thought," House said in a chipper tone.

Cate rolled her eyes at him and skirted past him to put her clothes back on. Dressing hurriedly, she turned to him. "Am I ever going to get to know what it is that went down between you two?"

House shook his head. "Nope."

Cate narrowed her eyes searching him. Whatever it was, he was embarrassed to tell her because he couldn't look her in the eye. _Oh, this had to be good… or rather very, very bad._


	13. Chapter 13: Sex and the Second Trimester

Sessions II: Nine Months

Chapter 13: Sex and the Second Trimester

House snuck up behind Wilson in the cafeteria line and dropped a pastrami sandwich onto his friend's tray along with a bag of chips and a piece of chocolate cake. Wilson stared at him and readjusted his plate of grilled chicken to accommodate House's food and moved on down the line toward the cashier.

House looked at him perplexed. "What? No sarcastic comment? No disgruntled retort?"

Wilson smiled. "It's no problem."

House stared back now thoroughly confused. "I feel a little cheapened by your distinct lack of anger towards my mooching," he told him following him to a booth across the café.

Wilson slid into the booth and settled in, House taking the seat across from him. "I've come to accept your mooching as a part of my existence. One day it will all come back to me some how, some way."

He pointed at Wilson, a dawn of realization popping into his head. "You had sex last night."

Wilson grinned from ear to ear. "Not only did I have sex. But I had it three times. Once in the kitchen, once on the sofa and the other in the shower!"

House grimaced as a disgusted shiver ran up his spine. "Aw come on, there's food here," he complained grabbing his plate and unwrapping his sandwich. "You can't talk about such revolting things just as I'm about to eat."

"Did you hear me? Three times. In one night!" Wilson ignored him excitedly and carried on with his joyous account of their demonic fornication.

"Oh, I heard you alright," House grumbled. "I was trying to wipe the disturbing images from my short term memory."

Wilson rubbed his hand over his mouth to keep his giddy laughter at bay. "It's amazing. She's an absolute animal."

"Pit viper to be exact," House amended taking a rather large bite from his warm sandwich. It was still warm, but he was in a hurry to focus on something other than the unnatural coupling of Wilson and She Who Must Not Be Named.

"She's insatiable. Can't get enough of me," Wilson relayed puffing his chest up like a peacock. If he had the feathers, they'd be smacking House in the eye. Wilson dropped his voice conspiratorially and looked around to make sure no one was in ear shot. "I think I might actually have carpet burn on my ass."

House grimaced and swallowed the bite of sandwich in his mouth with difficulty. He was starting to feel a little queasy. "Is this a good thing?"

Wilson widened his eyes at him and dropped his mouth open. "It's fan-frikkin-tastic!"

"Oh, well now that we've got that cleared up." He wiped his mouth with a napkin and let out a little belch.

Wilson kept his voice to a hushed whisper as someone walked by to bus their tray. "I've had sex at least twice every night for the past two weeks."

House narrowed his eyes at him in disbelief. "Twice every night? Seriously?"

"Last night and Tuesday was three times," he added holding his fingers up for a visual recount, his giddy laughter bubbling over.

"For the past two weeks?"

Wilson practically did a happy dance on the naugahyde seat. "Last Monday I came home from that conference in Atlantic City and she jumped me. It's been a marathon ever since."

House swallowed another bite of sandwich and took of sip of his root beer. "You better be careful, you might get dehydrated wasting all that sperm."

"Who cares?! I haven't had this much sex since the beginning of Amber but before that was since the beginning of Bonnie," Wilson recalled. "Remember what a rabbit she was?"

House shook his head. "Please, could you spare me the visual reference? I've been scarred enough by your numerous conquests."

"But this is way better," Wilson exaggerated digging into his chicken. "I feel like I'm sixteen again."

House let out a harrumph and continued to focus on his lunch.

Wilson stared at him for a few minutes as he chewed his salad. "Is Cate not feeling extra frisky? Have you guys been, you know, a little on the back burner?"

House narrowed his eyes at him. "We are just fine thank you very much."

"Okay. I was just asking," Wilson held up his hands in defense.

House picked up the bag of chips opening them. _Where the hell was this coming from?_ He hadn't led on that the past couple of weeks have been a little dry on the sex o'meter for them. It was really no big deal. Cate wasn't feeling well. She had been sleeping a lot more and had few bouts of morning sickness that tended to last all day. Sex was the last thing on her mind. It was fine. He had endured dry spells that had lasted much longer than three weeks. He could certainly endure this one. The second trimester was just around the corner and business should start picking up as she would start to feel better.

"You know Valentine's Day is next weekend," Wilson reminded him. "You're going to have to acknowledge it this year."

House eyed him over his bag of chips. "Do you know me at all?"

"I know you better than anyone, which is why I'm making a point to tell you that you better buy your wife something for your first Valentine's Day together."

"I'm way ahead of you there, Ron Jeremy," he quipped.

"You got her something already?" Wilson practically choked on his chicken salad more from shock than because he'd alluded to his new porn star status.

"Have you no faith?" House stared at him. "I hate Valentine's Day as much as the next guy, but she's pregnant and cried over a toilet paper commercial the other night. Do you think I'm stupid enough to not acknowledge the quintessential of all women's holidays? I would like to eventually touch her with my penis again some time soon."

"I knew it!" Wilson pointed his finer at him. "You aren't having sex right now!"

House winced and then glared at him. "Keep it down, will ya? I've got my super stud rep to protect."

"What's going on? Is everything ok?" Wilson asked quietly obeying the command to be discreet.

"She feels like shit all the time, that's all," he replied. "It's nothing more than that. When she feels better we'll be back in the saddle."

"She's at the tail end of the first trimester, right?"

"Right. In another week or two, she should start to feel more like her old self," he said with a shrug. "Till then it's just me and the Five Angelinas."

"Five Angelinas?" he asked stupidly.

House held up his right hand and waved his fingers at him with a smirk.

Wilson shook his head. "Aw man, I pity you."

"Yeah, what else is new?"

HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

Cate signed the chart for her last patient of the day in the ER and flipped it shut before placing it back into the rack to be forwarded on to the inpatient facility. She clicked her pen and slipped it in to her pocket of her lab coat. It had been three weeks since her appointment with Sheldon. She was fatigued, still puking every morning and had developed an aversion to all sorts of smells, both good and bad, that she could somehow sense from miles away.

And House had been a saint through it all. _Ironically_. He had put up with her puking on his shoes one night at the movies after a popcorn and junior mint craving. He had taken out the garbage everyday from the apartment and had showered numerous times on her request because he had come home smelling like the hospital. In fact, he had taken care of her every step of the way without complaint. He had told her one night after she had a shed tears over a broken glass that it was good practice for having to take care of the baby. And with her numerous temper tantrums and crying jags, he was probably right. House the saint… _who would have thought_?

Cameron approached the nurse's station with a heavy sigh. She looked as about exhausted as Cate felt. Cate's heart went out to the woman. She had been working like a fiend for the past three weeks. It was like she was on a mission. They still had yet to speak more than two words to each other since Cameron had found out about her marriage and the baby. At this rate, Cate wondered if they'd ever get back to where they used to be.

"You look pale," Cameron said.

Cate had to look around to see if she was talking to her. When she realized that no one else was around, she placed the back of her hand to her cheek. "I'm tired," she replied back to her a little surprised by the friendly tone in her voice.

"Have you eaten anything yet," the blonde doctor asked her tossing her chart onto the counter. She placed her hand on her slim hip and gave her a crooked smile.

Cate regarded her for a moment. It was after 8pm and she was hungry. "No. I was just thinking about going home."

"Would you mind grabbing some late dinner with me?"

"Sure. I'd like that," Cate smiled. As unexpected as it was, the impromptu invitation was a welcome diversion. Maybe they were finally going to be able to get back on track.

They two women went into the locker room to change out of their scrubs and clean their faces before they headed to the little dinner down the street from the hospital. Cate had texted House to let him know what she was doing. She could practically hear the warning tone through her Blackberry screen. Cate, however, didn't think that there was anything to worry about. Cameron had been the one to ask her. She was ready to extend the olive branch and that was a positive thing.

They were seated in the booth and quickly placed their drink orders. Taking off her mittens, Cate slipped them into her jacket pockets and removed her coat draping it to the side by her purse. She blew out a settling breath and smiled warmly at Cameron who was brushing her hair back from her shoulders with her hands. "So, how have you been?" Cate opened casually.

Cameron sighed and looked like she was searching for the right way to answer that normally very benign question. "I've been ok. Busy."

"I've noticed you've been putting in a lot more hours," Cate mentioned off handedly following her chosen line of conversation.

The waitress came to bring their drinks. Cameron warmed her hands around her coffee cup after the waitress flipped and filled her cup while Cate squirted her lemon into her water and dropped it into the scratched plastic cup. Cate missed coffee. That was one of the smells that she couldn't abide. Thankfully, this particular brew wasn't strong enough to reach her sensitive olfactory bulbs.

Cameron took a sip of her coffee and leaned back tiredly against the back of the booth seat. "I tend to become a workaholic when I'm avoiding things," she explained with a self-deprecating shrug.

Cate smiled. "I think we all do that." So, she was avoiding 'things'. Cate's interest was definitely piqued. She was dying to know what had prompted this little dinner confessional but she didn't want to push. There was obviously something Cameron wanted to talk about but, it was hard for her to get it out. Cate couldn't help but wonder if it had to do with her. Or with House.

The waitress came back to take their orders. Cate decided that French toast and bacon would do the job to quell her raging sweet and salty addiction. It's what she loved about diners in New Jersey. She could order any kind of food 24 hours a day whenever she wanted. She could have breakfast at 4am or a burger if the mood struck her. Cameron ordered her usual boring turkey sandwich on rye with coleslaw on the side.

When the waitress left to put the orders in with the kitchen Cate smiled at Cameron and placed her hands on the table. "We've missed you," she told her affectionately intending fro her to understand that she meant Cuddy and Thirteen in her collective 'we'.

"I've missed you guys too," she replied, her eyes misting up slightly. "I heard Cuddy's pregnant too."

Cate nodded. "She is. And she's absolutely glowing."

"That's great. I'm happy for her," Cameron said. _What about her? Was she happy for her?_ Cate wondered selfishly. Cameron leveled her eyes at her and gave her a rueful smile. "I'm happy for you too, Cate."

"Thank you," Cate said honestly, releasing a little sigh of relief.

"Cate, I'm sorry if my distance has made you feel, I don't know…" she began but faltered. "Believe me. It has nothing to do with you. Or with House."

Cate sipped her water, passively allowing her to talk. Cameron ran her hand through her hair and sighed heavily. Her bottom lip trembled and her misting eyes welled up. "Chase and I broke up."

Cate's heart broke in two at her disclosure. "Oh, Allison. I'm so sorry." That was the last thing she expected to hear.

Cameron shook her head and twisted a napkin around her finger. "It's my fault…"

"How? When? What happened?" Cate pressed sympathetically.

She leaned back again and breathed in and out to regain her composure. "He asked me to marry him on New Year's Eve."

Surprised, Cate blinked. _Okay, maybe that was the last thing she'd expected to hear._ "Oh my God, that was almost two months ago. How could you not tell us?"

"I didn't want to burden anyone with my stupid problems," she said lamely.

Cate was shocked that she could think that her feeling were so inconsequential to her friends. "How did you go from a marriage proposal to breaking up?"

"I don't know," she said dumbfounded herself. "I panicked. I was shocked although I shouldn't have been. He had been dropping hints for months. I just didn't think he would actually do it."

"Why not? He obviously loves you," Cate told her. It was true. One of the only real things she could gather from Chase in the few times she'd met him was that he was head over heals in love with Cameron. The rest, except for his pure disdain for House, he played close to the chest.

"I thought we were ok with where we were," Cameron said sadly. "I mean, I had only agreed to give him a drawer a few months before. I couldn't even commit to that, for crying out loud. Why would he think I would be ready to get married?"

"I don't know," she answered honestly. "Maybe he figured he'd take a chance."

"Yeah, well," she said with a bitter smile. "He did and I hurt him so terribly."

"Did you tell him 'no'?"

Cameron shook her head and crossed her arms protectively over her middle. "I told him I needed some time to answer."

"I guess he didn't take it very well," Cate surmised easily.

"He got angry. We wound up fighting. He said I would never commit, that I was too afraid, that I was waiting for what I really wanted. He blamed my apprehension on my feelings for House," she admitted with a sad look at Cate. "I swear to you it has nothing to do with House." A tear slipped out of the corner of her eye and she swiped at it with her fingers. Cate closed her eyes and paused for a breath. Watching Cameron struggle with her feeling over this made her feel uncertain about what to say because truthfully she had the same suspicions and worries as Chase.

"Cate, I don't want House," Cameron reinforced reaching across the table to grab hold of Cate's hands. "I'm happy for you two. I can't believe he actually committed himself to someone in real, honest to goodness marriage but I think it's the best thing that's every happened to him. I saw the way he looked at Stacey," she shook her head. "He never looked at me like that. I always knew he was capable of deep, deep love but just not for me." She smiled back at her. "With you, there is no sadness, no pain. No regret. He's happy and that's all I ever wanted for him."

Cate pulled her hand away, not because she was angry with Cameron, but because she needed to wipe the tear that had rolled down the side of her nose. She let out a breath she'd been holding. "I'm ashamed to admit how relieved I am to hear to you say that."

Cameron smiled at her. "I know you had to feel uncomfortable. I… didn't always make it easy. I guess, I didn't always make it easy for Chase either. I don't blame him for being angry. But the truth is it has nothing to do with House. I'm the one with that's damaged. I'm the one with the problem."

"Oh, Allison, you aren't damaged," Cate assured her. "You're afraid to commit to someone because you've loved and lost tragically. That's hard for a lot of people to get over. That doesn't make you damaged."

A fresh wave of tears came over Cameron and she covered her mouth with her hand. "Have I been keeping Chase at an arm's distance because of my husband?"

"I would say," Cate gave her opinion forcefully and then pulled back a bit. "It makes sense that you would put yourself out there to House. You were attracted to him, I mean who wouldn't be?" Cameron let out a little laugh at that and Cate chuckled continuing on, "but you knew he would never reciprocate. He was ironically 'safe'."

Cameron laughed. "Safe, huh? The guy who was the meanest person I'd ever met was the safest guy I could fall in love with to protect myself?"

"Sure, he was mean, rough, harsh, rude and more… and he did it all to keep you at cane's distance which was in all reality perfectly ok with you because he could never really hurt you because you'd never be able to truly give a hundred percent of yourself to him." Cate paused and sipped her drink coming to this realization herself as she spoke. It all seemed to make sense now. "And then when House couldn't return your feelings, you tried a casual thing with Chase. You thought you could sustain it but casual can not last. Either you fall in love or someone gets hurt."

"Or both," Cameron murmured. "We fell in love, but we both got hurt."

The delivery of their food broke their train of thought for a moment. Cameron dabbed at her eyes with her napkin to make herself presentable as she plastered a bright smile on her face. When the waitress left, Cameron fixed her sandwich with mustard and Cate set forth on the elaborate preparation of applying butter and syrup to her powder sugar covered French toast. She crumbled her bacon over it for that added kick of salt and admired her handiwork. Taking a bite she savored the crunchy saltiness with the fluffy sweetness of the bread and syrup. Opening her eyes Cate found Cameron staring aghast at her.

"What?"

"Those are some serious cravings you've got going on there," Cameron said.

Smiling sheepishly, Cate shrugged. "It's gross. And I can't help myself. If it's salty it automatically has to go with something sweet or vice versa. I literally had pickles with ice cream the other night."

Cameron's eyes went wide. "Oh no, you didn't? Was he home?"

"Oh God no! I had to eat it quick before he came home because I think he would have thrown up in the middle of the kitchen floor if her even caught wind of it."

Cameron laughed. It was good to see her having fun. "One time back in the very beginning, I made the mistake of getting his lunch for him."

"Pastrami Rueben on rye and chips, no pickles," Cate recited. It had become like a mantra.

"Exactly, only he was testing me and didn't tell me about the pickles," she recalled with a smile. "I wound up with pickles in my locker for an entire week." She stated to laugh and it bubbled over into a giggle. "I used to eat pickles straight out of the jar for snack sometimes just to spite him. He would get so pissed off."

"Very passive aggressive," Cate laughed and enjoyed her bacony French Toast. They ate and spoke casually about Thirteen and Cuddy and things around the hospital while they finished their food. Full, Cate pushed her plate away signaling the waitress so she could order an herbal tea. After the server returned with her cup, she sipped at the hot liquid letting it relax her.

"So, do you want to marry Chase?" she asked her flat out.

Cameron pulled back considering her words for a moment. "I miss him. I want to be with him. I just don't want to be married to him because he pushed me into it."

"What would it take for you to not feel rushed?"

The blonde regarded her with her deep green eyes. "A long engagement."

"So tell him that," Cate advised.

"Just tell him that I will marry him in two years," Cameron asked dubiously.

"Yeah, why not? Besides, every catering hall and church in New Jersey is probably booked for the next two years anyway. You'll have to wait," she said mater-of-factly.

"You didn't wait. You went away for a week and came back married," Cameron pointed out with an arch to her eyebrow.

"I married House and it was sort of a surprise ambush wedding," she explained with a laugh, thinking back on how it all took place. "Could you really see him waiting two years?"

"I can't even see him married! So, I guess my perspective on the world has got to change," she surmised with a wry grin. "If House of all people could do it, then why couldn't I?"

"Exactly," Cate agreed.

"But now I've got no one to marry me, so I guess I'm shit out of luck," Cameron lamented.

Cate rolled her eyes and waved her hand at her pushing aside her self-pity. "Please. I bet you my Loubutains that he'll take you back in a heart beat."

Cameron lifted the corner of her mouth into a shy smile as she chewed nervously on her thumbnail. "You really think?"

"I know," Cate stated. "Well, wait. Let me take that back. I'm like ninety-five percent sure."

Cameron laughed. "Ninety-five percent?"

"Well, I have to leave room for a little error," Cate amended. "We can't go out of the gate too confident."

"What do you think I should do?" Cameron asked her sincerely.

"It might take some serious groveling, but who's really above that?" she answered with a saucy little wink.

Cameron shrugged. "You may be correct. Right now he's not really looking at me much less talking to me so I might need a little divine intervention."

"We'll get the team on it," Cate assured her.

HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

"I am so not going to do that," House grumbled sliding her a sidelong glance from behind his glass of bourbon. If he didn't know better he'd have thought she was the one drinking.

Taking the half-empty glass from his hand and placing it on the coffee table, Cate leaned into him shifting her position against the cushions of the sofa so she could run her fingers up his chest. She placed a kiss where his heart beat under his t-shirt and looked up at him with a beautiful pout.

"No." He objected. "No amount of pouting or manipulation is going to make me play match maker."

"Please," she teased running her nose along the beating pulse in his neck. His tongue darted out to lick his lips as his mouth went dry when she nibbled at the back of his earlobe. She was going to play dirty. Dirty could be fun.

"You are coy and a minx and you could give me a blow job right here in the living room while I'm watching Dancing with the Stars, but you will not get me to convince Chase to marry Cameron."

"Are you so sure about that?" Cate asked him with an impish gleam in her eye. Slowly, she lowered herself to the floor in front of him. He had just given her the line in the sand and she was clearly going to challenge him on it.

"Cate," he said warningly.

"Greg," she replied back at him moving her hands along his thighs in a circular motion kneading and teasing his muscles into submission.

He leveled his eyes at her. God, how he missed that sexy look in her eye. She was enough to unman him with one simple look, let alone what she was planning to do. He could feel himself ready to explode and she hadn't even touched him yet.

Deliberately she moved her hands up to the fly of his jeans and undid the button with her deft fingers. The zipper released itself from the burgeoning pressure and she arched an eyebrow at him coquettishly telling him that his verbal protests were no match for her. She knew the power she held over him. He couldn't deny it. He was powerless to her. His breath burned in his chest as she slid her hands into the waistband of his boxers freeing him from the restrictive confines of his clothing. She would get what she wanted; they both knew it because she was two seconds away from bringing him the promise land.

She kneeled back down between his legs and stroked him delicately up and down with her fingers. The edges of her nails teasing him with every subtle scrape. "So let's say, I actually do give you a blow job while you're watching Dancing with the Stars. Will you hear me out?"

"I, uh…" He could barely think straight. Her hands were driving him wild with distraction. "Um… maybe."

"I'll take maybe as a yes," she replied running her tongue from the base of his shaft all the way up to the sensitive tip.

Incoherently, he thrust his hands into her hair as she took the length of him into the hot recesses of her mouth, her magical tongue rolling over him like a slick velvet caress. His eyes rolled back in his head and he let out an involuntary, groan. "Oh god yes!"

"Yes, you'll help me?" she questioned looking up at him from under the thick veil of her eyelashes.

He growled. Her tongue had stopped. "Yes, Yes! Whatever you want just don't fucking stop."

He heard her chuckle deep in the back of her throat as she took him back into her mouth causing him to let out a roar of satisfaction. She suckled and stroked him in and out, over and over again bringing him quickly to the precipice. He was no match for her. And it had felt like an eternity since she had touched him so intimately. Swallowing hard, he gripped at the edge of the cushion fisting the butter soft leather in his hands as he came into her mouth on a forceful explosion the originated from somewhere in his toes. He heard the disembodied groan of his release echo loudly in the confines of their living room as a perky jive step played happily in the background. _Good God! Welcome to the second trimester_… _She was back._


	14. Chapter 14: It's Complicated

Sessions: Nine Months

Chapter 14: It's Complicated

_A/N: Hey, thank you to all of those who have reviewed! Feedback is always so incredibly welcome. It makes me smile. So Cameron's back and we're all surprised that her absence was not because of raging jealousy! Ha… plot twist! Told you Cate's perspective would be a little skewed. Her own insecurities about what took place between House and Cam clouded her perception of what her friend was feeling, as well as House's, but his ego always tends to get in his way. Not to mention that Cam refused to tell anyone about the breakup so they had no pieces to put two and two together. I hope this further explains her rational behind how she acted… Enjoy!_

HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

The very next morning the reigning divas of Princeton Plainsboro Teaching Hospital convened together at their favorite table in the cafeteria for a meeting of the minds to brainstorm ideas about what to do to get Cameron back together with Chase. Cate had rallied the troops as soon as she got in that morning explaining what had taken place over her diner with Cameron last night. House had his own instructions, which she knew he would most certainly avoid doing at all costs despite his very vocal acceptance of her persuasion tactics last night. Cate shook off a little shiver of delight over her remembrance of last evening and brought her attention back to her companions.

Cameron smiled at her friends looking around the table. Cuddy and Thirteen clasped her hands in friendly welcome and support forgiving her for her long absence as if she had never been away from them. She winked at Cate in a silent thank you for being so understanding for her horrible treatment of her. Cate knew she never meant harm by her actions, but her marriage and subsequent pregnancy was too much for the ER doctor to handle coupled with the burden of her own pain over her broken relationship. It was too much of a reminder to what she had given up.

"I am so sorry," the blonde pleaded with her friends. "I just have no excuse for being such a cold and distant bitch."

"You have nothing to apologize for," Cuddy told her strongly. "You're back now and that's all that matters."

"And thank god!" Thirteen added. "Because all I've heard from these bitches was 'Oh my boobs are soooo big, I can't stop throwing up, the sex is sooooo fabulous, babies, babies, babies'. They cost me an entire paycheck in lingerie and I couldn't help but by these freaking adorable little baby Converse sneakers for their rug rats and they're not even born yet. I swear to god, we almost needed an intervention."

Cameron laughed and patted Thirteen's hand with her other one. "When you put it that way, I'm almost glad I was MIA. But, I promise I won't leave you to bare the brunt alone anymore."

Cuddy leveled a disgruntled look at Thirteen. "Please. I seem to remember a conversation the very next Monday about the twelve hour sex marathon you had after we enlightened you about the magic of lingerie. You weren't complaining then."

A beautiful blush graced Thirteen's face and neck. She grinned prettily and bit the corner of her lip with her teeth, conceding. "It _was_ a really good weekend."

Cameron laughed. "Foreman always was one of those quiet studs in the making."

"Sweetheart, tell us about what happened," Cuddy smiled empathetically at her bringing the conversation back to her current predicament.

Cameron shrugged her slim shoulders and sighed lightly. "The long and short of it is that he asked me to marry him and I told him I needed time. He got mad, we fought and we broke up."

"Hold on. Slow down," Thirteen objected. "We need details. When did he ask you to marry him?"

Cameron settled back into her chair getting ready to relay the lengthy story. "It was New Year's Eve," she said with a sigh. "We went out to dinner at Café Speletto."

Cate heard a gasp come from Cuddy. "The place where you had that defunct date with House," she asked incredulously. "Why would you do that? Chase knew you went there."

"Yeah, but he didn't remember that, so I never let on, he was trying to be sweet and I didn't want to ruin it for him. Little did I know," Cameron winced. "I am never going to that place again, by the way. There's some really bad karma there for me." She checked for Cate's reaction to make sure that she wasn't stepping over a boundary but Cate mere chuckled at her. Having ironed out their own issues about her former crush, Cate was completely secure about how her friend felt toward House. It was all water under the bridge.

"It's really too bad because they have an excellent chocolate mousse," Cate told her with a laugh.

Thirteen rolled her eyes at her. "It doesn't come with bacon on top, so how would know?"

Cate stuck her tongue out at her auburn haired friend. "Don't mock what you don't understand," she sniped and then gestured to Cameron. "Carry on…"

"Anyway, we get through dinner and we're talking over cappuccino," Cameron continued. "He starts to get all nervous. And I'm thinking 'oh my God, did he eat some strawberries that we didn't know about? Is he going into anaphylaxis?' Well, no such luck. He pulls out a velvet box with this gorgeous ring inside it." Cuddy and Thirteen sighed but then realized this story didn't have a happy ending. "When I saw this box, I started to hyperventilate. My heart sank."

"I hope you didn't have the same look on your face you have now," Thirteen said facetiously.

Cameron frowned. "I probably did, because he turned pale. I tried to explain that it was all so sudden. That we hadn't talked about it. That I just needed some time to think."

Cuddy covered her mouth with the backs of her knuckles holding back a pitying grimace. "Poor Chase."

"Yeah, well, he got angry," Cameron recalled with a sad frown. "He started in on the whole 'you're still in love with House thing' claiming I couldn't let myself feel anything for him because I was still pining for Him."

"Is it true," Cuddy asked pointedly.

"Lisa?" Cate raised her eyebrows at her questioning the administrator's bluntness. The brunette merely shrugged looking like she was only voicing the question they had talked about at length themselves.

Cameron held her hand up to belay Cate. "It's ok. You and I have been over this but they need to hear it too." She took a deep breath and forged on. "Yes, I love House." Thirteen's eyes widened and her mouth dropped open. Remy flicked her eyes to Cate and she nodded to just hear their friend out. "I love him the same way you both do. I just want to see him happy. It's all I ever wanted for him. And I know that he's truly happy with Cate. It makes me happy that he's in love and finally starting his life over."

"Then why wouldn't you talk to Cate this whole time" Thirteen asked sharply. "Why the silent treatment for all of us?"

"Remy," Cate warned trying to diffuse the situation but the internist waved her hand in the air heatedly.

"No, she sees you and House in the ER doing an ultrasound on your baby after you come back from a whirlwind wedding and she gives you the cold shoulder for practically two months," she shot back. "It seems suspect to all of us. I'm just the only one with the balls to say it."

Cameron closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose between her fingers. "I know what it looks like. And I deserve it." She looked up and leveled her eyes at them. "But the truth was that night when I walked in on you guys I was confused. I didn't know what to think. I was in the middle of a grueling shift and had a trauma coming in and there you were doing an ultrasound. I just couldn't believe that you were pregnant. It was the last thing I would have expected. Everything just seemed to close in on me. Chase and I had just broken up a few nights before. I hadn't slept. Seeing you two there together with they picture of the baby between you brought all these feelings to the surface of everything I had lost."

Cuddy reached out to hold her hand smiling sympathetically at her once again. "Oh, sweetheart. That is so sad."

Thirteen's harsh glare slipped from her face turning into empathy. "Cam, I'm sorry," she apologized.

Cameron shook her head with a self-deprecating smile. "I've lost a husband before. I never got a chance to have a baby with the person I loved. I care about House _and_ you," she looked specifically at Cate, "but honestly I was jealous that you two were going through the things I should have been going through but I had just blown up any chance of that by hesitating to agree to marry Chase."

"Cameron, it's natural to feel that way," Cate told her. "You're afraid to lose. You're afraid to take a chance again."

Cameron laughed ruefully. "You see, there's the problem. I do want to marry Chase. He is everything that I want. I love him. But he thinks I don't and now he can't forgive me."

"That's where we come in," Cuddy said happily.

"I don't know what you guys think you're going to do," Cameron said dubiously.

"Hello, this one got the lone wolf of all werewolves to marry her," Remy threw out there jerking her thumb in Cate's direction.

Cate shrugged. "Technically I didn't even try."

"Tell me, how did he do it," Cameron asked her curiosity getting the better of her as she leaned forward onto her hand with a grin.

"Ring on top of pancakes on Christmas morning," Cate mused remembering how his hand shook when he held up the ring for her to take. It was the sweetest, most adorable thing she had ever seen. Her heart squeezed in her chest all over again at the poignant memory. "He flew my dad and his mom down and surprised me with a wedding on the boardwalk overlooking the ocean." Her pregnancy hormones were kicking in again because she stared to well up as she talked about it.

"Oh my god! House?" Cameron exclaimed. "Gregory House did that?" The look in her eyes changed from shock to pure admiration. "Woman, you _are_ good."

"Hey, no crying," Thirteen reprimanded. "You don't see your Bobbsie Twin over here sprouting tears."

Cate blotted her eyes and began to laugh. "They're tears of joy and shut up."

"She cried through the whole thing. I cried. It was beautiful," Lisa said misting up herself as she placed a hand on Cate's arm.

"You see, _this_ is what I have to deal with," Thirteen griped to Cameron.

Cameron chuckled. "They're adorable."

Cuddy wiped at her tears and giggled. "Ok. Enough of this. So, I think I have plan."

Cameron winced. "Your plans notoriously suck."

Cuddy rolled her eyes at her. "Only when they deal with House. Chase will be cake walk."

"So what is this ingenious plan," Cameron relented hopefully.

Cuddy looked gravely at Cate. "It is going to require House…"

"Already got him covered," Cate reported with a wink and a saucy grin.

"Ooo, I bet you do," Thirteen purred.

The four ladies burst into a peel of laugher. Their diabolical plan was being formed.

HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

House propped his feet up on the desk of the ER and crossed them at the ankles as he leaned back in the desk chair. He plucked a cookie out of the plastic wrapper in his hand and popped it into his mouth. A nurse maneuvered around his feet giving him an irritated look before taking a chart from the rack. He simply smiled at her throwing her off guard with his friendly demeanor. She actually stared at him for a minute before shaking her head and leaving to go check on a patient. He chuckled to himself and bit another cookie. Some people were just so easy to rattle.

He watched as Cameron approached him with a suspicious look on her face. She gave him a wry grin and blew the bangs out of her face as she leaned over the counter to stare down at him. "What do you want?"

"I'm not allowed to come visit my favorite former duckling," he replied feigning insult.

"Um, no... You always want something," she responded. "Otherwise you never call, never write."

"Anyone mysteriously dying?" he asked good-naturedly diverting her.

"Nope. Not today," she said.

"Not even an unexplained stroke or edema?" He finished his cookies and tossed the wrapper onto the countertop. She plucked it fro the surface with a disgusted snort and tossed it into the trash can next to him.

"Sorry. There's a guy in 2 that cut his finger off with a rotary saw, maybe you can find that he really had a myaclonic jerk causing him to loose control of his hands," she offered.

He frowned on a sigh. "Nah. Boring. And probably highly unlikely."

"So that leaves, you actually coming to visit me, to talk," she said emphasizing the word talk like it was an epiphany.

He tipped his head back and forth, hemming and hawing with the idea that that was actually what he had done. "Maybe."

She narrowed her eyes at him. "You want information. You're such a girl, you know that?"

He drew back and stared at her with an amused smirk on his face. "_Moi_? I'm the girl, says the girly girl with the loopy g's. I think not."

"Right," she drawled. He watched her skirt around the desk to grab her water bottle and then head in the direction of her tiny closet she called an office. _Great, now he had to get up_. Rolling his eyes, he hoisted his leg off the counter and limped after her. She wasn't getting away that easily.

He could hear her chuckle as he entered her office and sit down at her desk because she knew he would follow unsatisfied with her answer. Closing the door, he plopped himself in the chair across from her and put his feet up casually the edge knocking over some paperwork in the process.

She rolled her eyes at him and picked up the pile to restack it on a different corner. "You know, I don't come and put my feet up on your desk knocking shit all over the place."

"Gimpy leg, not my fault," he retorted. "And you just plain don't come to visit anymore."

She kept her eyes down not looking at him. "I've been busy."

"You're an idiot."

Her green eyes darted up at him. "Yeah. I know."

He regarded her for a moment trying to ascertain just how much of what she had told Cate last night was true. Because he, for one, didn't believe it. "Why do you want to marry Chase?"

She sighed at him, confusion and regret washing over her. "I love him."

"Yeah?" that was the part he didn't believe. "Like you loved the poor dead husband?"

A stab of hurt surfaced and he almost felt bad for bringing it up, but the truth hurt, no matter how much sugar you put on it. "No," she answered plainly. "It's different." She stared at him pointedly and then crossed her arms defiantly. "Do you love Cate like you loved Stacey?"

"This isn't about me," he retorted.

"Just answer the question," she forced.

"No." He sighed. He was going to leave it at that, like a refusal but he continued as it was his answer. "I love her more," he told her honestly.

She raised an eyebrow at him and then smiled swiveling in the chair a little to face him better. "Just because we loved and lost doesn't mean we aren't capable of feeling again."

"Are you telling me or yourself, because I already know that," he said nonchalantly. It was a hard lesson that took him ten years to learn.

She began to laugh. "Maybe myself," she admitted.

"Seriously, why Chase?"

"Well, you're no longer available…" she started jokingly and then stopped. "After, I quit, after you fired Chase, things felt different. We were going to go to Arizona together. I thought we were going to start fresh. Make a life away from everything in our pasts. But then Cuddy offered me the Chief of ER and I couldn't refuse that… even if it meant still being here, around you. He didn't want to stay. He had no ties here, no family but he did it for me." She smiled ruefully and fought to keep back her tears. "Finally, someone was sacrificing everything for me."

He nodded understanding what she meant. She had spent her whole life giving and sacrificing for other people and she was finally getting it in return. It validated everything she had done.

"But you weren't in love with him," he added.

She frowned. "No. Not then. I still was hung up on you, but I had finally come to realize that could never be. He was there. He was everything you were not. For me anyway."

"You used him," he stated.

"No. I cared for him, I was just…selfish," she confessed. "But as time went on, we got into a pattern. We were happy together. I grew to love him."

"So why not just say yes," he asked.

She was quiet for a long time, just watching him, searching for something she couldn't quite grasp. He almost snapped his fingers at her to jolt her from her reverie when she looked at him imploringly and said, "Can I ask you a question?"

"Sure," he drew out slowly, uncertain of where this was going.

"Why did you marry Cate? Why commit to her like that? It's something I thought you would never do… which was really quite romantic, by the way. I never would have guessed you'd be such a sap," she said giving him a teasing smile.

He felt himself smile shyly for a second, completely deserving her ribbing, and then shook it off. Ge_t a grip, man_. Taking a deep breath he shrugged rubbing the backs of his fingers against his beard. He had actually thought about this long and hard when he was trying to interpret his feelings about what Amber was trying to say to him in his dreams. He had come to a crystal clear realization, then.

"I couldn't live without her." He pushed his lip into a contemplative frown. "I couldn't go back to the way I was before her. I would rather die than live that way again."

Her eyebrow raised in amazement at his candor. In fact, he was a little surprised by it himself. "So I ask you again why not just say yes?" he repeated.

"Because I'm an idiot," she replied. "I'm a stupid, terrified idiot. I was afraid. Stunned… _stupid_."

"Did you shoot him down," he asked.

"No, I just told him I needed more time," she cried.

"In guy speak that's as good as a 'no'."

She rolled her eyes at him. "I really just needed time to process."

He rolled his eyes back at her. "Process, smocess…"

"What would you have done if Cate had said no?"

"I would have been out about ten thousand bucks," he mused and then jerked his shoulders in a shrug. "And probably taken off on a jet ski with some serious drugs, never to be found again."

She laughed at that and sighed. "It's a good thing she loves your sorry ass."

"Yeah, ya think?" He stood stretching his leg. He hobbled over to the door and ran his thumbnail over his forehead as he stared at the floor wondering when he had become the confessor of women. "He'll come back."

She shook her head. "Not this time."

He stood up to his full height and nodded his head at her. "You can count on it."

He left her and went in search of Kutner. Vaguely, he remembered tossing his nametag to the young fellow earlier that morning pulling him to report for his weekly clinic duty. He passed through the glass doors to the clinic.

Nurse Brenda rolled her eyes at him as he limped past the circular desk. "You're in exam three," she said with a wry chuckle making air quotes with her fingers.

Nodding at her, he continued to the glass window and rapped on it with his cane. Kutner turned from his patient when he saw it was him and came to the door poking his head out. "What's up?"

"Come on, we have a mission," he said.

Kutner stared at him with an excited smile, the patient totally forgotten. "Where to?"_ At'ta boy… I trained my prodigy well_…


	15. Chapter 15: Jam Session

Sessions: Nine Months

Chapter 15: Jam Session

_A/N: I have nothing but respect for the talented writers of House, but this is Sessions Universe and I need my world to spin in a different orbit. You may recognize some things from "House Divided" but, disclaimer: I borrowed it, diced it up and made a new dish with it… Enjoy!_

HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

"He's going to hit me," Kutner whined.

"He's not going to hit you," House groused rolling his eyes. "In all the years I've said stupid, antagonistic things to him, he's never hit me."

"You're a hell of a lot scarier than I am, of course he's not gonna hit you," Kutner objected.

"I'm a cripple with a cane, yeah I'm really scary," House griped sarcastically, shoving him forward. "Just do it."

Kutner sighed defeatedly and moved forward with reluctance. He looked back at House over his shoulder uncertainly before thrusting his hands in his pockets and making his way slowly over to Chase. He hesitated, took a deep breath for resolution and made his move.

"On a stakeout Batman?" House jumped as Wilson's voice sounded in his ear.

"Quiet, I'm trying to hear," he told him in a hushed whisper bringing his eyes back to the scene playing out before him.

Wilson shifted behind his shoulder, standing out of eye shot behind the pillar that he was using as cover. "What are we trying to hear?" he whispered conspiratorially.

House rolled his eyes. "Kutner's on a mission. Shut up and listen."

Wilson cocked his head curiously. "Okay…" he drawled. Deciding he was just going to roll with it, he settled in to eavesdrop behind him.

"Dude, so I got these Knicks' tickets from a patient House diagnosed with gall stones last week," Kutner was saying.

"Knicks' tickets?" Chase questioned flatly.

Kutner nodded. "Yeah. For the Knicks' game Friday night. They're really good seats. Courtside."

"And?" Chase couldn't possibly seem less interested.

"I was wondering if you'd want to go with me?" Kutner asked him nervously.

Chase narrowed his eyes at him looking mildly perplexed. "Are you asking me out on a date?"

Kutner laughed tensely. "No. Nothing like that." He stammered. "Like bros. Like friends. Dude, I like girls."

"So why don't you ask a girl?" Chase shrugged.

"Because I don't know any girls," Kutner deadpanned. "And I've got back stage passes to meet the Knicks City Dancers. Come on, hot babes?"

House bit his tongue to keep from laughing. _This was good_.

Chase made a face. "They're House's tickets. Take him."

Kutner snorted out a laugh. "Oh yeah, could you see House at a basketball game?" He leaned forward, like he had a dirty secret. "He doesn't even know I have the tickets."

Chase grunt derisively. "Don't be too sure of that. If he doesn't know it already, he'll find out and then take it out of your hide and mine for next three months. No thanks."

"Seriously, he doesn't know. Come on it'll be fun," Kutner cajoled. "What else have you got going on?" House and Wilson winced. That was a shot below the belt and by the looks of it, Chase felt it. "Knicks City Dancers," he prodded and produced the tickets from his lab coat waving them in front of his face.

Chase narrowed his eyes at Kutner contemplating the pros and cons of whether or not to say yes to going. House could see he was trying to determine the merit of trying to pull one over on House versus spending another night alone without the woman he claimed he wanted to marry. He picked up a French fry and popped it in his mouth. "Fine. You're buying all the beer and the food. And you're driving."

"Yes…" House pumped his fist. _Hook, line and sinker_.

Chase picked up his tray and left Kutner alone at the table. After Chase was out of sight, Kutner turned and gave House the thumbs up. House turned and bumped into Wilson who was still lurking behind his back. He shrugged him off irritatedly and adjusted his sport coat with a grunt.

"Will you get off me?" he griped. "Jeez, people are going to think we're dating."

"Yes, they've already asked me where we're registered for our wedding gifts. You going to tell me what the hell that was all about," Wilson questioned stepping back to give him a wide berth.

House limped purposefully down the corridor toward the elevators, Wilson dropping in to pace along side him.

"Why did Kutner just invite Chase to a Knicks game with your tickets?" he asked trying to ascertain the convoluted situation.

"Because he's not going to actually go to the game," House replied simply.

"What? He invited him to a game he's not gong to? Why?" Wilson asked stupidly. He really should know by now that he had a plan. _Honestly_…

House reached the elevators and pushed the button. "Because we are going to get him so drunk and in such a compromising position that he's going to wish he'd never broken up with Cameron and he'll go running back to her."

Wilson tilted his head to the side thoroughly stymied. "How exactly is that supposed to work?"

"Karamel, with a K" House said with a lecherous grin.

"Karamel, with a K" Wilson repeated. He stared at House and then the light bulb went on and his eyes widened. "_Karamel_?" Wilson shook his head. "You are insane."

"I know," he puffed. "Isn't it great?"

Wilson took a dubious breath. "I don't know. The last time Karamel was around, I wound up carrying a duck down the street with no pants on."

The elevator dinged and the doors slid open. House giggled and stepped in. "Isn't life grand?"

Wilson closed his eyes and followed. "Does Cate…"

"No."

The doors slid shut. "But…"

"No."

"Cuddy already had a plan."

House slid him a look. "Cuddy's plan was stupid. A romantic diner on the roof of the hospital is ridiculous. It's the middle of February. It would suck even if it wasn't the middle of February."

Wilson shrugged with a nod of the head agreeing non-verbally so he would actually have to say that his girlfriend's harebrained idea sucked.

"Mine will work."

"If you say so…"

HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

House plucked out the last few strands of Aerosmith's version of Muddy Water's _Baby Please Don't Go_. Kutner's surprisingly agile fingers kept up with his tempo, matching him chord for chord as they rocked out to what had to be the thirtieth song they had played that afternoon. House finished with an arpeggiated flourish and Kutner dueled with an equally as fancy syncopated rhythm both landing together on the final staccato note like they had totally planned on it. They looked at each other and bust out laughing.

Reaching for his beer, House tipped it at him in admiration. "You are a crazy bastard."

"You didn't think I could keep up," the young doctor challenged sipping his own beer. "We been sitting here for like three hours, you'd think you'd know better by now."

"I have to push the envelope. It's what I do," House admitted with a laugh.

"Yeah, like invite Chase to a basketball game he's not even going to," Kutner professed.

"Come on, you have to admit, my plan is ingenious," House contended. "Chase's desire to one up me is strong but his desire to not get caught doing it is even stronger. He'll sit and drink until the cows come home even if means wasting free tickets to a game he's not all that interested in going to just so I don't find out."

Kutner nodded his head sipping his beer. "Chase hates you enough. It might work."

"I know Chase, it will work," he prodded and began the grooving drive of the beginning of Cream's _Crossroads._

Picking up his pick, Kutner joined in. "Dude, _Crossroads_? Now you're just being a bitch."

House laughed and picked up the tempo closing his eyes letting the notes take him down to the backwater edge of New Orleans. The guitar wailed and tweeted out the melody singing the old song through its steel strings. He hadn't had this much fun playing in a while. No one played so he had no one to jam with and jamming by yourself was kind of like jerking off, fun for a bit, but then you were done and it was over. Discovering Kutner played was a nice little tidbit. And his musical repertoire was quite impressive. Not only did he know the songs but he knew how to play them and improvise within them as good as any.

The front door to the apartment opened and Cate came through with a pleasantly surprised look on her lovely face. She took her coat and scarf off and dropped them on the back of one of the dining room chairs before she came over to where they were playing by the piano. Casually, she leaned against the top of the piano and listened while they continued to play. Coming to the end, he closed the song signaling to Kutner with the motion of the guitar neck. The young doctor easily followed his moves like a dance partner, finishing impeccably with the classical blues ending.

Cate laughed and clapped her appreciation before leaning over to where he sat on his amp to kiss him hello. "Hey rock star," she greeted sweetly and he smiled against her soft lips as he played out a "woo, woo" modulating it up to make it sound like a cat-call whistle just for her. Smiling, she placed her hands lovingly on his shoulders before she stepped away. "Who knew I'd come home to a little jam session?"

"We skipped out early, no one dying today," House answered.

"At least not in Diagnostics," Kutner amended.

Cate patted Kutner on the head like he was an adorable two year old as she walked by him, kicking her shoes off before going into the kitchen. She poured herself a tall glass of water and chugged a couple of large gulps. House watched her slyly out of the corner of his eye. She probably hadn't had anything to drink since lunch and was dehydrated which wasn't good for her or the baby. Earlier in the week, Thirteen had snuck and told him that Cate confessed she wasn't drinking as much water as she should and they had both agreed to keep a distant eye on her.

Cate returned with two fresh beers for them. "Thank you, babe," he said taking them from her hand and handing over Kutner's. He curled his arm around her waist and gave her a squeeze before placing a kiss on her baby bump under her soft green sweater she had on today. She had transitioned into skirts just like her other ones but they had the stretchy baby panel in them that would grow with her to accommodate her belly. The new clothing had made her much easier to deal with in the morning because she was less inclined to have a mental breakdown over having nothing to wear. So he was thankful for that even if they looked highly unattractive without the shirt on over it. He really didn't care however, she would still be a hot piece of ass in a burlap sack as far as he was concerned.

She smiled down at him and then kissed his forehead. "Did you talk to Cameron yet?"

"Yes. The other day," he murmured holding back and eye roll.

"What about Chase?" she pressed fingering the collar of his shirt.

"Umm, more or less…" He received an arched eyebrow from Kutner and he shot him a glare from the side of her hip thankful that she couldn't see Kutner's expression.

"Good or bad," she asked warily.

"Umm, good." He replied in the affirmative hoping that would waylay any further questions prompting him to have to explain his deviation of the plan to a much better one

"Good," she said happily dropping the subject. "I am going to change and then come lay down. Some of us at the hospital actually did have patients to see today."

He smacked her ass playfully as she slipped away from him. "Well stop after the next song," he called out to her.

"No. Don't stop because I'm here," she admonished from the edge of the hallway. "Just pretend I'm not here."

"It's ok. We've been playing for three hours," Kutner said by way of an excuse. "I really should get going."

"No… don't leave on my account, really," Cate persisted with a little pout. "I want to listen to you guys play."

She disappeared down the hallway and House looked at Kutner and smiled. "What the lady wants, the lady gets."

"You are so whipped," Kutner laughed.

"She brought us beer and wants us to keep playing, if that's whipped then, so be it."

Kutner shrugged and started a riff that segued into Cream's _Strange Brew_.

"Nice…"

HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

House, Cate and Kutner went around the corner to Fletcher Magee's Pub for dinner about an hour and a half after they had resumed playing for their audience of two. Cate had settled in comfortably on the sofa with Sexy Kitty and a blanket to listen to them play. She had actually been able to fall asleep for the better part of an hour but House didn't let on that she had slept that long. After watching her drink another tall glass of water and seeing the dark circles under her eyes, he was concerned that she might be pushing herself too hard at work and that she might need to start cutting back on her hours. He decided her would have to broach that topic carefully when Kutner wasn't around.

They sat at the small square table in the bar where he and Cate had their first date the night she had dropped by his apartment when they watched the Phillies make it to the World Series. He looked around the dark atmosphere of the bar. A hockey game played on one of the screens over the bar and ironically, a Knicks' basketball game played on the other two. A few of the regulars occupied stools at the corner of the bar.

House smiled to himself. This was the place where his life had changed forever. Now, he was sitting here with his wife and an unexpected colleague and... dare he use the 'f' word… _friend_. He was amazed at the whole turn of events his life had taken. If some one had told him he'd be married with a child on the way a year ago, he would have told them to fuck off because he would never have believed them. Hell, sometimes, he still hardly believed it himself. Sometimes, he would wake up in the middle of the night in a cold sweat breathing hard and have to pinch himself and reach over to touch her to make sure it was all real. He, who believed that people don't change, had changed the most. He almost didn't recognize himself when he looked in the mirror because there was a guy that looking just like him that was smiling starring back at him. He looked the same, talked the same, thought the same, except now he was uncontrollably happy for the first time in his life. Some people would say it was something short of a miracle. And the only way he could explain it was her. She had changed him. For the good.

She was laughing at something that Kutner had said and he smiled to pretend like he was paying attention to what they were talking about.

"What are you smiling about," Cate asked.

"The Knicks are winning," he lied and pointed to the screen.

"Oh, hey, that reminds me. Some guy I diagnosed with gall stones gave me tickets to a game next week, you want to go?" Kutner offered sipping his beer. He could totally hear the fakeness of the lie on Kutner's lips and prayed that Cate was having too good of a time to notice. They had conspired to bring it up during dinner, but his segue was appropriate and House couldn't complain. The timing was perfect.

"When," he pretended to ask.

"Friday," he faux supplied.

Cate frowned. "We have an appointment with Sheldon on Friday."

House grit his teeth to keep from rolling his eyes in real disgust at hearing that guy's name. He had forgotten about that. She was gong to kill him. "Fuck. That sucks."

Kutner stared at him, looking for what to say next. "Ummm, what time is the appointment?"

"Five o'clock," she said.

"The real five or the 'I'm gonna tell House's it at five but it's really at 5:30' five o'clock?" He looked at her pointedly.

"The real five, " she snarked. "I figured I couldn't use that tactic twice on you."

He sighed heavily. _Shit. This might put a little kink in their plan_. "Who makes an appointment at five o'clock on a Friday?"

"Over achieving goody-two shoes doctors," Kutner supplied sarcastically from behind his beer.

Cate's mouth dropped open and her eyes widened. "Not you too? You've clearly been hanging out with him to much."

House snorted. "He's not lying."

Cate clamped her mouth shut on sigh. "You want to go to the game. Go to the game. I'll go by myself."

Sensing her tension, Kutner jumped in prematurely. "It's ok. I'll ask Chase if he wants to go. Ouch!"

"Sorry, cane slipped," House muttered. "She's says I can go, I'm going."

"But, we don't want to piss off a pregnant lady...Ouch! What the fuck?" He stared at him leaning over to rub his shin. "Put the cane somewhere else, would ya?"

Cate crossed her arms and flicked her sharp brown eyes back and forth between the two of them."Alright, what's going on?"

House rolled his eyes and glared at Kutner. "Nothing."

Cate's head swiveled over to him like it was going to snap off. "Really?"

"I just really want to go to the game," he fibbed dramatically. He figured if he was going to lie, he might as well make it big. He gave her puppy dog eyes. "Knicks City dancers."

"What are you Superman? You're going to watch them with your magnified x-ray vision from the nose bleed seats?" she retorted.

"Seats are courtside," Kutner offered under his breath.

Her head snapped at him. "You shut up."

He held his hands up to protect himself from her glare. "Shutting up."

"The truth, Greg," she warned.

"Ooo, she called you Greg. Shutting up now." Kutner inched his chair a safe distance back from both of them.

"I'm not lying; we really do have tickets," he said looking her straight in the eye. _It was the truth he had to get the tickets to make the plan work…_

"You might have tickets but you're really not planning on going to the game," she stated confidently.

"How do you know," he feigned being argumentative figuring even if he was snagged, he wasn't going down with out a fight.

"You're eyes crinkle right here when you lie to me." She leaned forward and poked him on the corner of his eye socket.

House stared at her for a long minute rubbing the wrinkles at the corners of his eyes. _Fuck, he knew he had a tell_. He just wished it wasn't so frikkin' obvious. There was no way he could control that. He pursed his lips together and shifted them from side to side, trying to decide what to tell her. He figured the partial truth was probably his best bet. "Ok, the basketball game is a ruse to get Chase to come out with us."

Kutner mouth dropped open afraid that he was going to dish all. He shot him a look to keep quiet and continued, "We're just going to take him out for some drinks and talk."

Cate eyed him carefully. "What? You're going to get him so drunk that he has an epiphany that he really needs to take Cameron back?"

_God, she was so perceptive_. _How the fuck did she do that?_ House shrugged and sipped his beer. "Yeah something like that."

"That's your rationale? That's your plan?" she challenged. She snorted in laughter and then looked at Kutner to check and see if he was reacting adversely to any of this. Realizing he wasn't fabricating it, she clucked her tongue at him. "Greg, that's just absurd."

"Trust me, every man has to troll like a filthy mud covered pig to realize what he's got at home waiting for him," he rationalized. He had done it himself, With Wilson for his fiftieth birthday.

She rolled her eyes and frowned creasing her forehead deeply at him. She was quietly seething for a tiny eternity. "You're still going to the baby doctor appointment. You can troll like a pig afterwards." She closed her eyes and shook her head and when she opened her eyes they were deadly serious. "He better come back free and clear of diseases. Got it?"

He nodded. "Got it."

HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

_A/N2: Umm… can you tell I miss Kutner?_


	16. Chapter 16: PreGaming

Sessions: Nine Months

Chapter 16: Pre-Gaming

House bounced his cane up and down repeatedly against the flat dense carpet on the floor of the waiting room. _Bounce, b-b-bounce, bounce, b-b-bounce…_

At her wits' end, Cate yanked the cane from him and put it on her far side receiving a sincerely grateful look from the woman across the chairs from them.

He sighed heavily blowing the air out through his pursed lips in the same exact rhythm as the bouncing.

_Puff, p-p-puff, puff, p-p-puff…_

Cate rolled her head to the side and stared at him. "Could you stop?"

He flicked a single blue eye at her. The puffing ceased.

"Thank you," she murmured.

He bugged his eyes out at her like a five year old and then turned them to contemplate something on the wall instead.

After a few minutes, he heaved in another heavy breath. "I think it's a one big giant conspiracy," he muttered agitatedly.

Confused, Cate turned her head to look at him. "What?"

"Waiting rooms," he said. "The drug companies make waiting rooms."

Cate blinked. "The drug companies make waiting rooms? What makes you say that?" Why she was trying to follow this conversation rationally, she had no idea.

"Drug companies conspire with doctors to make you wait in waiting rooms for excruciating periods of time so that your BP and pulse elevate and you have to be prescribe ACE inhibitors and beta-blockers for hypertension," he waxed like an anarchist. "You really don't need them, but when you finally get to see the doctor, your BP is through the roof. Bam, you have high blood pressure. Take a pill." He shifted like his last words reminded him of something and pulled out his Vicodin bottle.

Cate looked at the amber bottle in his hand. "I thought you were cutting back?"

He popped two in his mouth and dry swallowed them with a gulp and an 'ah'. "I'm pre-gaming."

Cate shook her head and pressed the tiny headache precipitating behind her right eye.

Shifting again, he slipped the pill bottle back into his pocket. "Mark my words, it's a conspiracy."

"Oh yeah? Is that why _your_ patients have to wait forever to see you?" she countered. "You're in on the drug conspiracy?"

"Wrong drug, sweetheart," he muttered. "No. I just don't want to see my patients. I don't want to see them because I hate them."

"Did you ever think that maybe the reason we have to wait so long is because Sheldon _hates_ you?" she offered.

The woman across from them stifled a chuckle and House narrowed his eyes at her causing her to flush.

Unfolding himself out of his chair, he stepped over her feet uneasily and grabbed his cane so he could limp over to the receptionist window. Impatiently, he rapped three times on the glass with a loud clank from the handle of his cane. The young woman hurriedly rushed over to open the glass in fear that he would break it if he hit it again.

"Excuse me, do you think you could tell 'Dr. S' to get his slow as molasses ass in gear and get a move on,' he hollered at a decibel that was clearly not meant for her since she was standing a mere two feet away from him.

"Greg!"

"Because, people have places to go, people to see, strippers to waste good money on!"

"Greg!!" She shot up from her chair quickly and went to grab his arm. Suddenly the room became blurry and her head spun.

"Oh my God, Dr. House," the receptionist exclaimed pointing.

House spun around and grabbed Cate before she fell down onto her knees. Awkwardly yet carefully, he shifted her over to one of the chairs closest to them and helped her to sit down. Coming to his knees in front of her, he lifted her eyelids to check her pupilary reactions. His hands found her pulse point in her wrist and he immediately started counting her pulse rate mentally against his watch.

Cate's eyes came to focus on his head dipped over her wrist and she sighed heavily trying unsuccessfully to brush his hands away. "I'm fine," she objected. "I just got up too fast."

"You almost fainted," he argued dropping her wrist but taking her hands in his.

"I have a headache," she claimed hoping he would drop it. _This was so embarrassing_.

The door to the exam rooms opened and Dr. Sheldon came out hurriedly in his scrubs and lab coat removing his stethoscope. House reached up and grabbed the instrument refusing to move out of the way forcing Sheldon to stand back with a frustrated frown.

"What just happened," he questioned.

"She almost passed out waiting for you," House accused freely, putting the ends in his ears as he shoved his hand up her shirt pressing the flat piece to her chest. "She could have delivered in the amount of time it would take to actually get to see you."

Sheldon rolled his eyes. "Save the melodrama for your own patients, House." He turned to one of the nurses who had congregated behind him. "Give me the BP cuff and get me a pulse ox." One came flying over his arm and House grabbed it from him before he could even lay his hands on it.

He pushed off her suit jacket like she was a child and threw it on the chair next to her before pulling up the sleeve of her sweater. Tightening the cuff around her arm, he shoved the stethoscope under the cuff and pumped up the balloon to take her pressure. He reached out for the pulse ox monitor and affixed it to her finger on the other hand.

"Greg, really, I'm fine," she disputed unsuccessfully. He ignored her and continues to assess her vitals.

Ripping the Velcro of the blood pressure cuff and folding it before handing it to one of the loitering nurses, he cupped his hand gently behind her neck under hair and sighed. "Your pressure is 90 over 50," he told her with a pointed look. "You're dehydrated."

Cate sighed closing her eyes. "I can't be dehydrated."

"How much did you have to drink today?" Sheldon inquired with a serious look.

"Like three bottles of water," she relayed. "The big ones."

"Low blood pressure, dizziness, headache and…" he ran his thumb over her lips, "…dry chapped lips. You are most definitely dehydrated."

Someone had produced a cup full of cool water and handed it to her. Sipping the cold liquid she swallowed the dry feeling at the back of her throat. She never even realized how thirsty she was.

"Let's get you back into the exam room," Sheldon said holding his hand out for her ushering them into the back offices.

House stood up clumsily and someone handed him his cane that Cate presumed he dropped when he had to catch her from falling over. Holding his hand out to her, he helped her up from the chair and wrapped his arm lightly around her waist giving her support if she needed it. They stepped in front of Sheldon and his outstretched arm.

"Finally," House announced exaggeratedly as they passed Sheldon. "Good job, honey! Next time we'll fake preterm labor and maybe we'll get to see the doctor when we actually arrive for our appointment! Honestly, you'd think being employees of the hospital we'd get some kind of preferential treatment. I'm really going to have to speak to Cuddy about that."

Cate shook her head and then thought better of it as the floor tipped a little. Gripping onto him, she used his tall frame for support. She didn't have the energy to balance herself let alone keep him in check.

She heard Sheldon snort something under his breath but couldn't make it out. A few second later, they made it into the exam room and House helped her to sit on the table. Sheldon clicked the door shut and wheeled the ultrasound machine over to the bed. "Lie back," he instructed "Let's take a look at this baby that's sucking all of Mommy' moisture out of her. We need to see where you're fluid levels are."

Cate smiled weakly and pushed herself back against the cushion of the table, thankful, oddly enough that she didn't have to take her clothes off. House was by her side instantly, holding her hand firmly with his own letting her know he was right there. His hands hadn't left her since she almost toppled over. In fact, this was the first time he'd let someone else touch her since.

Sheldon moved her sweater up to reveal her belly. Gently pulling the elastic waist down on her dress pants, he freed up her stomach so he could drape it with a paper shield to protect her clothes from the ultrasound gel. Instinctively, she flinched at the cold gel hitting her skin. It seemed she would never get used to the drastic temperature difference.

The rapid heart beat sounded immediately when the probe hit her skin and he clicked around to measure the uterus size, amniotic fluid volume and baby length. The screen showed a baby head with a full profile. Cate looked at Greg and was once again amazed at how his face changed when he looked at their child. In that moment, he wasn't a doctor analyzing and quantifying. He was just a daddy looking at his baby. The softness in his eyes made her fall in love with him all over again. She smiled and squeezed his hand. And just like that the spell was broken.

"The amniotic fluid is low," he said to Sheldon.

"Yes, I was just going to day that, but I wanted to give you a moment to look at the baby," Sheldon said with a touch of sarcasm as his printed out two pictures from the monitor.

"Yeah, thanks," House blew him off. "She needs IV fluids. Put her on a saline drip of…"

"I know what to put her on, House," Sheldon barked. He picked up the phone and ordered an IV drip for her. "I am going to admit you for the night."

"No," Cate argued pulling out the paper shield and wiping off her belly with it before she sat up fully. House tried to push her back down onto the table but she shoved off his hands. "I'm not spending the night in the hospital."

"Lay back down," he barked at her. "You've been pushing too hard. You need rest and fluids."

"I'm not staying overnight," she protested vehemently. "I don't care."

"Cate don't be irrational," Sheldon said.

House drew in a breath between his teeth and took a step back from her out of her swing radius with a one-eyed grimace. He knew better than to be caught in the cross fire of her reaction to being called irrational. He had made that mistake once before.

"Excuse me," she snapped at Sheldon.

Sheldon drew his eyebrows together and held his ground. "You're crazy if you think…"

"Don't you dare," she cut him off angrily.

Sheldon looked at House who had his hand up innocently in the air. "Don't look at me. You called her irrational. That's a _no bueno_."

"Cate, you need IV fluids for a good twelve hours, at least," he explained to her softening his tone.

Cate looked at House for some kind of assistance that she wasn't sure she was going to get from him. He wanted her on IV as well. She reached out to grab his hand for support. "Greg, I don't want to be in the hospital overnight."

House sighed, his head and shoulders slumped. She knew why he was reluctant to agree, but he stepped forward. "Give us everything we need. We'll do it at home. I'll monitor her. It's not like we don't know what we're doing."

"Suit yourself," the doctor acquiesced. "But I want to see you back in a week to check the levels. The baby's growing which is good. It's about three inches now, but those levels concern me. Dr. Daddy over here I'm sure will lecture you sufficiently about how to keep them up."

Twenty minutes later they left the hospital with a large bag of IV catheters and saline drips for her rehydration camp out at home. When they made it back to the apartment, he had her change into her pajamas and set up on the sofa while he arranged the IV to hang from a wheeled pole he had stashed in the closet as a left over from the skull fracture suffered in the bus accident. Sexy Kitty jumped up onto her lap as she lay back against the pillows curiously checking out what was going on. She marched up her chest and head butted her as if she knew that things weren't exactly copacetic. Cate kissed the little cat's head as she purred under her chin. "Not you too?"

"Mommy hasn't been taking care of herself," he said to the cat as he wheeled the pole close to arm of the sofa. "She's been a bad, bad girl."

Cate lolled her head back against the pillow to look at him. "I have," she protested weakly. "I guess it's just not enough."

Sitting on the edge of the sofa, he took her arm in his and swiftly and proficiently inserted the needle into a vein in the back of her hand in one stick and then connected the catheter to the site taping it down with surgical tape. His hands were fast and efficient but delicately gentle for such speed. She had mistakenly assumed he'd be like a bull in a china shop when it came to the routine banalities of the medical field but she was happily proven incorrect. For someone who couldn't stand to talk to his patients much less touch them, his bedside manner was surprisingly tender.

He leaned forward and pressed his lips to her belly talking to the baby. She ran her hands through his hair allowing the course waves to tickle her palms as he spoke. "We'll get you swimming back in the deep end in no time."

There was a knock on the door and he sat up with a perplexed and irritated look on his face. Getting up with a frustrated groan he limped to the door without the aid of his cane.

Cate could hear the door open and him step back with a sigh.

"Why did you call her?" he groaned.

"Hey, lady," Thirteen greeted cheerfully as she came into the apartment with a bag slung over her shoulder and shopping bag from the grocery store in the other.

"I called her to babysit me, because you're going out," Cate said to him from the sofa. He was still standing at the door with it open. "Close the door. It's cold. She's not leaving." She pulled the cashmere blanket House had given her for Christmas off of the back of the sofa and Thirteen grabbed it from her and fluffed it out to drape it over her causing Sexy Kitty to scurry away only to come back a minute later to snuggle up once again on her hip.

House clicked the door shut and came back over to her by the sofa. He paused in front of her and stared down at her irritatedly with his hands on his hips. "I'm staying home." He looked at Thirteen. "You can go. We don't need you."

"Sorry, Hotshot," she said to him tapping him lightly on the shoulder as she passed by into the kitchen, putting her contents of her shopping bag into the fridge. "You're just going to have to go out and endure the hardship of strippers' tits in your face and jiggling asses on your jock, while I'm here taking care of your wife. You gotta take one for the team, big guy."

House made a face at Cate. "I don't need to go. Wilson and Kutner, can take care of it. I can call Foreman if I have to."

Cate reached out her hand to him beckoning for him to come over to her. He laced his fingers with hers and sat on the edge of the couch. "Sweetheart. I'm fine. The baby's fine. Go out and do what you had planned." He opened his mouth to protest but she stopped him with her finger to his lips. "Cameron needs you."

He raised his eyebrow at her suspiciously. It was a dirty manipulation, she knew it. But hey, he already knew she wasn't above that. "Fine." He leaned forward and kissed her head and then planted a sweet kiss on her lips. Standing up strait, he turned to Thirteen who had come to sit on the foot of the s-shaped chair by the bookshelves. "Text me every hour with BP and pulse. If you don't, I'm coming home and you both better hope you're dead because you'll wish you were."

"Aye, aye, Captain," Thirteen said with a sarcastic smirk. Cate chuckled at his disgruntled expression.

He quickly went in to change his t-shirt before coming back to slip into his leather motorcycle jacket. Grabbing his keys and his phone, he pointed at Thirteen. "I'm not kidding. Every hour." Bending down, he kissed Cate goodbye one more time and placed a loving hand on her belly over the baby. "I love you."

Cate pressed her IV hand to his face. He took her hands and rechecked the catheter insertion and she clucked her tongue at him with a chuckle. "I love you too. Go."

Grabbing his cane, he was out in a flash.

"Thank God he's gone, now we can get this party started," Thirteen exclaimed with a hand clap. "I brought Panera sandwiches, Ben, Jerry, our good old friend, Hershey sauce, and some green olives for you to put on top for desert."

"Oh yum," Cate said. "Bacon Turkey Bravo?"

"They one and only and broccoli cheddar soup. Who's the Queen?"

"You are."

"Well, technically you are, since I'm the servant girl waiting on you hand and foot, but I'll take it."

"Excellent."

"Plus, I've got some sexy porn," she said digging in her bag to produce two DVD's. "_How to Lose a Guy in 10 days_… Matthew McConaughey and wait for it…_Music and Lyrics_…Hugh Grant."

Cate choked on her laughter. "Sexy porn? Could they be two more opposite guys?"

"Yeah, well. It was all I could find on such short notice," Thirteen muttered. "Besides, you'll be asleep within the hour. I'm the one who has to text under threat of death."

Cate chuckled at her and she turned to pop the first DVD into the machine in the entertainment consol. Thirteen grabbed the bags from Panera and plopped herself down on the sofa handing her one of the small containers of soup along with a plastic spoon.

"Do you think he'll be able to do it," she asked opening her own container.

Cate shook her head. "He's remarkable perceptive about everyone else's motives. I think he knows how to get to Chase better than any of us."

Thirteen stirred her soup and contemplated it before speaking. "Well, I hope for Cameron's sake that he's right."

HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH


	17. Chapter 17: Trolling

Sessions II: Nine Months

Chapter 17: Trolling

House ambled into the West End Bar and Grille with Wilson at 7:30.

"Please, I promised Cuddy that I would not do anything that would constitute the need to hire a lawyer or take antifungals for the rest of my life," Wilson said to him as they wandered through the early evening crowd to the bar.

"Relax, will you," House muttered.

"That's the problem, my social inhibitions become too relaxed whenever I'm out at these kinds of…" he expressed and then paused. "Hell, I don't even know what to classify what we're doing here."

"It's an intervention," he offered.

"Isn't an intervention needed as a result of one of these nights? Not the other way around?"

"Whatever," he dismissed and then found their target. "Oh my God!" he shouted over the din of the crowd in his best surprised teenage girl voice. "Wilson, will you look who's here?"

"Who would have guessed," Wilson intoned half-heartedly. "Kutner, Chase."

"Hey," Kutner said in a faux-surprised voice, turning around in his barstool to greet them. He stuck his hand out to shake Wilson's hand and then moved it to House. House took his hand and shook it in a friendly jovial manner receiving a curious glance from Chase who had turned to look at them over his pint of ale.

"Hey," the Aussie doctor said flatly.

House grasped Chase on the shoulder, squeezing it and clapping it in camaraderie. "I didn't know you two were bro's."

Kutner nearly choked on his beer at the look on Chase's face. Clearing his throat, he said, "We're just grabbing a beer."

Chase chugged the rest of his ale and slammed the glass on the bar. "We were just leaving."

House held his hands up and placed himself in front of them to block his progress. "Nah, come on Wilson and I just got here. Let's have a round." He put his forefinger and thumb in his mouth and whistled to get the bartender's attention. The tall guy came over and House circled his finger. "Another round of what these guys were drinking, a top shelf scotch ,neat and… Wilson?"

"Uh, Jack and diet coke," he ordered.

House tossed two twenties on the bar. The bartender poured two more beers for Chase and Kutner exchanged out their empties before putting down House and Wilson's drinks.

"So, why are you here," Chase blurted out. "Why aren't you at home with your pregnant wife?"

House plastered a smile on his face forcing himself to focus on the reason he was here. "Just because I've got an old lady now, doesn't mean I can't spend some time with the guys."

"So what are you two up to this evening," Wilson diverted sipping his drink.

"Just chillin'," Kutner said casually, giving Chase a look that was supposed to mean 'stick with the game plan'. House looked at Wilson.

"Any plans?" House asked.

Chase shrugged and adopted a casual demeanor. "We're just grabbin' a drink after hours. Maybe something to eat."

"Hey, so are we. Why don't we hang together," House suggested.

Chase grimaced an 'I told you so' look at Kutner who then pretended to look like he was caught in a dilemma of whether they should bail or stay to not let on that they had the tickets.

House placed a firm hand on Kutner's shoulder to 'intimidate' him into stay. "It's just a burger. Why, you guys got something else going on?"

Kutner laughed nervously and House chuckled to himself because he wasn't sure if it was for show or for real since he had him by the scruff of the neck. "Nah, we've got nothing else to do."

Chase shrugged indifferently. "A burger and then we're out."

"What's a burger between friends," House exaggerated clapping Kutner on the shoulder as he shook him companionly.

Wilson rolled his eyes at him practically screaming 'you're putting it on a little thick'. House let go of Kutner and motioned for the bartender again. "Barkeep, a round of Crown Royal shots for my friends here."

The two young doctors glanced at him with raised eyebrows in surprise at either his healthy alcohol tolerance level or his rather casual use of the word 'friend' to describe them, he wasn't sure which. He laughed as their shots came and he raised his glass in toast. "Here's to Friday night out with the guys."

Wilson stepped up to the bar with a grimace, "I can feel it in my bones. This is going to be like _Caligula_ isn't it?"

House smirked at him and chugged his drink. Slamming his glass on the bar, he moved through the Friday night bar crowd to grab a table. Wilson followed and then Kutner and Chase fell into step behind them, whispering in heated hushed tones to each other. They were trying to ascertain whether he knew about the Knicks tickets. _Good, Chase was fooled_. Now all he had to do was keep him drinking which shouldn't be too hard because the Aussie in him wouldn't allow him to back down from a challenge. Plus, Kutner had texted him that they already had two beers under their belt already and neither of them had anything to eat yet. Chase's eyes were already glassy so it would be easy to string him along to the night club after food as a guise to his 'discovery' of the ticket theft.

They were seated and ordered food and another round of drinks. House was starting to feel the effects of having three drinks rapidly in succession and decided that the next one he'd have to fake in order to keep his wits about him. He didn't want to be hammered if he had to go home fast to take care of Cate nor should he be driving that way since he had been the one to pick up Wilson. So, he switched to bottled beer so he could spit the shot into it without letting on that he wasn't drinking.

_I kissed a girl and I liked it, hope my boyfriend don't mind it…_

:: BP 95/60 Pulse 100. We ate. Matthew McConaughey is hotter than you::

::My mom is hotter than you::

_I kissed a girl and I liked it, hope my boyfriend don't mind it…_

::She is smokin' for an old babe::

::You're a slut::

House clipped his phone back onto his waistband, displeased that Cate was only improving slightly with the IV treatment. Wilson noticed the concerned look on his face and nodded questioningly in his direction. He shook him off and focused on the conversation they were having. It was something about a clinic patient who had pieced her nipples which he could care less about so he feigned interest in the TV screen above the bar. The Knicks game had started and he decided to turn the screws.

"Hey, look, the Knicks are playing tonight," he said with artificial enthusiasm.

Chase snorted and took a sloppy sip from his beer. "Basketball is one of those dumb American sports that's all about the money and endorsement contracts. Now, rugby. That's a man's sport. No pads all, brawn and sheer will."

Wilson laughed. "I played rugby once. In college. Got my ass handed to me. I don't think I could walk for days."

Kutner chuckled. "I played soccer when I was a kid but never was much into sports after sitting on the bench all season." He turned to House. "Did you ever play? You know before…"

The table got quiet and all eyes froze where they were for a few drawn out seconds. Wilson looked at him to see what his reaction was going to be. Chase stared into his beer and Kutner looked around the table trying to discern what he had said that caused an immediate halt in the conversation. It was just a question. House wasn't actually going to kill him.

House sighed and looked at the younger doctor. "I used to play lacrosse in high school. Got a scholarship to Hopkins." Both Wilson and Chase eyed him speculatively from behind their drinks. He never talked about that with them, but then again neither of them had the balls to ask either. That was why he liked Kutner. He came off as a doofy puppy dog, but he wasn't. He was just curious about… _everything_. Instead of his Rubix complex, he had a Curious George complex. "I was tall but not enough to play basketball," he said diverting the conversation back to the basketball game. Not like he really cared because he hated basketball, unless it was the play-offs and then it was just good betting odds.

"The Knicks are up by 12, " Wilson added tipping his beer in the direction of the TV. "It'd be kind of cool to go to a game wouldn't it?"

'_Atta boy, Wilson, way to get into the game._ "You know, I knew this guy once who could get courtside tickets to any of the Knicks games. He used to come into the clinic with gall stones all the time. I haven't seen him in a while. He should be due."

Chase nearly snarfed his beer and stared at Kutner who plastered a curiously, awkward look on his face. He really did look thoroughly trapped. He was becoming quite the double agent. House was so proud of his little protégé.

"You don't say," Kutner mumbled.

The seed was really planted now in Chase's head and was taking root. Chase thought that he knew that they had taken the tickets and tried to pull one over on him and was afraid he'd retaliate. So now, he could get him to go anywhere to avoid being caught.

Their food came. House ordered more drinks. He pulled a bait and switch to keep from becoming inebriated and the time wore on with conversation he half paid attention to or participated in.

_I kissed a girl and I liked it, hope my boyfriend don't mind it…_

::BP 98/75 Pulse 93. She's sleeping. And you're cat is a whore::

::It takes one to know one::

_I kissed a girl and I liked it, hope my boyfriend don't mind it…_

::You're out of Funnybones::

::Bitch. You owe me 2 boxes now::

Wilson eyed him again as he finished the text to Thirteen and put his phone away.

"Who's game for some competitive bowling?" House threw out there. It was way too early to go to the strip club. Karamel wasn't working until 11:00. They had a good couple of hours to kill.

Surprisingly, Chase bit first. "Five bucks in the pot every time someone bowls a strike."

"Winner takes the pot," Wilson put in.

"Let's go," Kutner proposed.

Sober enough since he faked the last two shots they had at the bar, House drove to the bowling alley across town. They bowled four rounds. Chase won most of the money because even drunk he bowled like he was on the Pro-bowlers circuit. It was fine because he was going to need every penny to his name for the big fancy wedding he was going to have to give Cameron when this whole evening was through. House, himself, lost fifty bucks in the process. He sucked at bowling even though he enjoyed it immensely. It was one of those games he could sill play despite his leg. The other was mini-golf although that didn't hold as much fun anymore since it's where he first experienced the excruciating pain from his infarction. Somehow, the irony of tapping balls through a miniature windmill made him feel oddly like Don Quixote tilting at giant windmills. It was an exercise in psychological futility.

_I kissed a girl and I liked it, hope my boyfriend don't mind it…_

:: BP 100/80 Pulse 95. After a nap, some Hugh Grant and a little olives on ice cream, she's coming around::

::Good. Better you than me on that one::

Wilson grabbed his arm and pulled him aside after the second text he's gotten at the bowling alley. "You gonna tell me what's going on? Why do you keep getting texts every hour on the hour?"

House frowned and briefly considered waylaying his questioning with a sarcastic comment but decided not to. "Cate's on IV at home with Thirteen."

Wilson looked at him in a shocked, semi-drunken haze. "Why the hell are we still here?" he blurted out.

House shook his head ruefully. "Because she made me."

Wilson scratched the back of his head, mussing up his hair. "She made you?"

He shrugged. "She wants Cameron and Chase back together. Period. End of story."

"She wants you to go see strippers, drink like fish and waste shitloads of money all to get Cameron and Chase back together?" Wilson reveled. "Her commitment level to this is admirable."

"Yeah, well I suppose my commitment level to her is…" he trailed off.

Wilson clapped him on the back with a giddy laugh. "Unbelievably admirable." House titled his head. There was a time when this whole evening would have been a raucous thrill for him. But not anymore. Tonight, it was just a means to an end. He wanted to be the one home with her, holding her hand watching movies while she rehydrated. But he was here instead doing it all for her, because it would make her happy. He was doing it for Cameron so he could finally close that chapter in his life. And a little part of him was doing it so he could see Wilson one last time pantless and so inebriated that he'd run through the streets naked to get to the next drink before they, too, closed that chapter in their lives and became responsible parents. It was a rite of passage so to speak. For all of them.

"I have an idea, let's head over to _Leather and Lace_," House suggested out loud to the group.

"I'm game," Wilson said happily nursing his beer. He already had that shit eating grin on his face that he got when he was drunk. _Cuddy was so going to kick his ass for this…_

"What do you say guys, tits and ass, no better way to spend the night," House prodded.

Kutner looked at Chase who frowned and shrugged. No longer in control over what he was doing for the evening, the Aussie threw up his hands in the air. "Why the hell not," he muttered. Of course he was game, he'd just won a hundred bucks.

They made it over to _Leather and Lace_ within the half hour. House drove again, because he was the only sober one at this point which Chase thankfully didn't seem to notice. They wandered into the gentleman's club that was now a hopping place at this late hour. Little John's _Get Low_ was thumping out of the bassy speakers as tons of drunk men circulated around the stage where an extremely flexible stripper hung upside-down from her leg wrapped around a pole in an aura of pink light.

Chase threw his arm around House's neck as the stumbled over to the bar. "You know I hate you right?"

House didn't bother to hide his mirth. "You know I hate you too right?"

"That my friend may be the only thing we will ever agree upon," he poked his finger at his chest.

"This is true," House agreed. "Very true."

They sidled up the edge of the bar where House ordered more drinks. Wilson was already giggling as he flirted with one of the scantily clad bartenders and Kutner looked like he was a kid in a candy store as he gazed around at all of the eye candy walking around the place in their stiletto heels. House found a stool that was unoccupied and perched himself on the end. Chase fell in behind him downing his shot before the others even had a chance to grab their glass. House didn't even bother to pick up his glass. Wilson and Kutner took their medicine like good little boys and then meandered happily over to where the girls were giving lap dances. Chase stayed with him. He apparently was in the mood for conversation.

The shaggy haired surgeon narrowed his eyes at him. "I really do hate you. I'm not joking."

"So you've said."

Chase huffed and shook his head. "You've somehow managed to ruin my life yet again. Do you know that?"

House leaned an elbow on the bar and regarded him for a moment. "Really? I wasn't aware that I really cared all that much about your life to ruin it once, let alone twice."

Chase snorted bitterly. "You fired me that was the first time. But actually in retrospect, it's was probably the best thing that ever happened to me."

"That's an interesting take on it," he muttered.

"But you've ruined it this time because you've tainted Cameron," he accused pointing a wavering finger at him. "You'll always be the one she chooses first."

House shook his head at him. "I never wanted to be chosen, that was her deal, not mine," he defended.

"But she thinks that some day you'll wake up and realize how much you want her," he droned in an almost helpless tone.

"Did you ever consider the possibility that maybe she just needed to wake up someday and realize how much she wanted you?"

He waved his hand dejectedly. "I've given her two years to wake up. If she hasn't done it by now, she's never going to."

"What if she did," House proposed.

"She won't," he leveled his eyes at him.

"Let's say she did," he repeated. "That she realized that loosing you was the worst thing that's happened to her."

"She's lost a husband already," Chase argued. "That's the worst thing that happened to her."

"OK, the second worst thing," House countered.

"She lost you to Cate, that's the second worst thing," Chase muttered.

"Ok, the third," House muttered. "What if then?"

"What if? If I'm the third worst thing that's ever happened to her than who gives a rat's ass? No body ever remembers the Bronze medal winners," he mumbled miserably. "Third place is the 'thanks for playing' award, the consolation price." He sipped his beer. "No thanks. I don't want to be the third choice of anything."

House snorted. "You were always my third choice and you still kissed my ass like it I was Angelina Jolie giving out free blow jobs. I think you're perfectly ok with being third choice."

Chase shook his head. "No. Not in this. I won't be the guy she marries because the other two guys she'd ever loved either died on her or married someone else."

_Wow, this was going to be harder than he thought_. _Who knew his self pity ran about as deep as his?_ He took a sip of his own whiskey needing a little fortitude and thought for a moment. "Do you know that I've asked her to come back to Diagnostics at least five times since she quit?" he looked at him out of the corner of his eye curiously shaking his head 'no'. "She said no five separate times. Every time she insulted me, with great pleasure, I might add."

Chase mulled this over in his head for a few moments. "So, she doesn't want to work for you anymore. She's a department head now. Going back would be a step backward. Why would she do that?"

"If she loved me that much why wouldn't she jump at the chance be back with me?"

"She could still love you and not want to work for you. In case you haven't heard, you're miserable to work for," Chase insinuated.

"And I'm miserable to live with also, so why would she want to choose me over you? It doesn't make sense."

"No, none of it makes sense," he groaned. "I never could understand why she liked you in the first place."

"Me either," House said. "But she got over it. She stopped caring about me along time ago." Chase shrugged, not believing him. "She doesn't love me," House told him. "She loves you. She wants to marry you." He poked him with his pointer finger in the chest each time to accent his point.

"And how would you know about this," Chase allowed dubiously.

"She told me," he stated.

"You're a liar, why should I believe you?"

"Because why would I lie about that?"

"Why not? To fuck with me?" Chase elaborated. "Do you ever really need more motive than that?"

House contemplated this for a moment. As much as he really did want to fuck with him, he had a mission to accomplish. "True but, in this case you'll just have to take my word for it that I'm not lying. She misses you and wants you back. She hasn't felt anything but contempt for me since she chose to walk out two years ago to follow you."

Chase stared at his hands on the bar as he absorbed the gravity of House's words. He could see him wrestling with his preconceived notions about the situation in contrast to the hope that what House was saying might actually be true.

Just then a tall brunette stripper in a hot pink bikini wandered over to them. When her eyes met House's, she gasped in excitement. "Dr. House!"

She came over to him and kissed him on the cheek. "I'm so glad to see you. Is Dr. Wilson here?"

House smiled. "He is indeed," he pointed over to the area with the white leather booths for lap dances.

She turned to Chase and beamed a white smile at him that glowed an eerie blue in the black lights that danced around the bar. "And who is this adorable young thing?" she said running her hands over Chase's hair.

"Dr. Robert Chase, meet Karamel, with a K," he introduced.

"So nice to meet you," she said sweetly and raised her arm up to wave her friend over. "Penny, come over here," she called. A tall girl in a yellow bikini with hair the color of a red penny came over to them and draped her arm over House's shoulder. "This is Dr. House and his friend Dr. Chase."

"Doctors huh?" she purred seductively close to House's ear.

_I kissed a girl and I liked it, hope my boyfriend don't mind it…_

House wedged his hand between Penny and his hip to pull his cell phone off his belt. "Yep. Doctors. Dr. Chase over here is getting married soon. We're here for his bachelor party, why don't you girls go show him a good time?"

"No. I'm not…" Chase blubbered unsuccessfully trying to deny his impending marriage.

"Sure you are," House lied and handed them a fifty. Karamel took the bill and slipped it in the string of her bikini bottom before coaxing Chase out of his chair to the lap dance area.

He flipped open his phone and read the text message.

::BP 117/80 Pulse 70. Put her to bed with the IV. She's doing much better. She peed three times in the last hour::

House breathed a sigh of relief. Her pressure was back to normal and her pulse was down. The fact that she'd been peeing meant that her body was flushing out the excess fluids it wasn't using to rehydrate anymore. However, it was still a good idea to keep the IV drip until the morning to make sure she didn't have any set backs.

::Thank you::

_I kissed a girl and I liked it, hope my boyfriend don't mind it…_

::Anytime, Big Daddy::

House looked up to see Wilson doing a body shot of tequila from between Karamel's amble breasts. It didn't take his best friend long at all once he laid eyes on her to have his face planted in his favorite stripper's cleavage. House shook his head and chuckled. The last time House planned Wilson's bachelor party for his marriage to his second wife Bonnie, Karamel had made such a striking impression on Wilson that landed he landed in jail for blacking out pantless in the bus depot carrying the duck that came with the stripper named Mother Goose. _Ah that was one fucking good time…_

The girls set one up for Chase who was trying to refuse but failing miserably. The look in his eye was one of veiled amusement. He really wanted to partake in the debauchery but felt the need to protest on principle. The shot glass was set-up albeit precariously between her breasts. The salt was sprinkled on her taut sparkling abs and a lime was placed in her teeth for him to take after he drank. Chase laced his hands behind his back being egged on by Kutner and Wilson who was now shimming with Penny on his hip singing loudly to Justin Timberlake's _Sexy Back_. House watched Chase dip his head low as he stuck out his tongue to lick the row of salt all the way up to Karamel chest. He reached the top and pulled back with a weird look on his face not taking the shot glass into his mouth. Something was wrong. He clutched at his throat rolled his eyes back and collapsed backward onto the floor.

House hopped quickly off the barstool and limped as fast as he could through the crowd to the fallen doctor. The strippers stood around him while Wilson and Kutner drunkenly tried to take his vitals.

"What the fuck just happened to him," House demanded as he crouched down to check his pulse. His pulse beat irregularly against his fingers and his breathing was coming in shallow ragged gasps.

"He said 'Strawberries' and then passed out," Kutner relayed.

"Strawberries?" House opened his mouth and looked inside. "Find me and epi-pen. He's in anaphylactic shock."

_Holy Fuck._ He was in a lot of trouble…


	18. Chapter 18: Reunited

Sessions II: Nine Months

Chapter 18: Reunited

The ambulance arrived in a cacophony of sirens and lights into the bay at the ER entrance. The driver pulled the bus doors open and yanked the gurney out unfolding the wheels as it cleared the opening. Chase was intubated in the ambulance on the way over and was being bagged by one of the EMTs. House and Kutner jumped out of the back of the ambulance and met Wilson at the door as he stepped out of the front passenger side of their ride to the hospital. He stumbled on his two left feet and Kutner reached out to catch him. Wilson righted himself and held his hand out to waylay the young doctor indicating that he had gained his balance of his own accord, albeit just barely.

A team of nurses greeted them at the electric sliding doors taking the vitals report from the EMTs. As they made it to the mouth of the ER, Cameron rushed over in a flurry removing her stethoscope from her neck preparing to go to work. She paused as she saw House first and then Wilson and Kutner. Her eyes went wide with shock.

"House? What is going on," she demanded.

He ran his hand over the back of his head and gestured to the gurney. She took one look at the prone body of Chase with an intubation tube coming out of his throat and almost crumbled. "Oh my God!"

Instinctively, he reached out and wrapped his arm around her tiny waist to grab her away from them as they wheeled him to an exam area. "No. Let them do their job."

She was as light as a feather so it didn't take much effort to hold her back. His only trouble was controlling her as she jerked her wiry arms and legs in an effort to escape his grasp. "I have to help him."

"They can do this," he told her not releasing his hold.

"Let go of me," she fought smacking at his hand.

"I'll let go when you promise you're not going back there and get in the way," he professed tightening his hold onto her until she relented.

Deflating reluctantly against him, she placed her hands on his arm and sighed a stifled little sob. "I promise."

As soon as he let go of her, she spun around to face him with her eyes flashing. "What the hell happened to him?"

"He's in anaphylactic shock," he told her. "He'll be fine."

Her eyes widened to saucer like proportions. "He had strawberries?! Who gave him strawberries?!"

Wilson and Kutner looked away sheepishly leaving him out there flapping in the wind.

"House," her voice had that warning tone that meant she was not to be trifled with.

House sighed. _Half-truth, that was probably the easiest way out of this…_ "We were out. He's very drunk."

"And by the looks of the rest of you, so is everyone," she spat derisively. She was angry, that much was for sure. "No matter how drunk he was, he'd never eat a strawberry."

House closed his eyes and ran his hand over his face. "He didn't eat any _actual_ strawberries." When he opened his eyes, she was glaring sharply at him.

Her eyes narrowed into piercing little slits. "Then how did he have a severe life threatening reaction to something he needs to imbibe or eat?"

Wilson sniggered unable to control himself. "Karamel."

Cameron wheeled around to glare at him. "Caramel? What about caramel? Did he have a caramel sundae that with a hidden strawberry in it?"

Kutner grimaced and shuffled his feet. "No it was a more like tequila shooter off a stripper named Karamel, sort of…"

Cameron blinked a few times to make sure she heard him correctly. "Sort of a tequila shooter? Or sort of a stripper? " Her voice had escalated to nails on a chalkboard proportions. God, why did women have to do that? Get all shrieky when they were pissed? She turned back to face House with her arms crossed impertinently across her chest and she fixed him with an accusing glare. "I assume this is all of your doing?"

"Why do you automatically assume it's me?" he feigned innocence.

She rolled her eyes forcefully at him. "You're kidding right?"

Wilson and Kutner burst out into a fit of giggles and then clamped their mouths shut when she shot them a fiery glare.

Cameron drew both of her hands to her forehead and let out an exasperated groan. "Fine. You guys were out doing… whatever. That still doesn't explain why his tongue is swelling his breathing passages closed."

"The stripper was wearing strawberry flavored body butter," House told her flatly.

She made a face and rolled her eyes. "Oh, that's just great!" Exhaustion from the shock of it all hit her suddenly like a ton of bricks and she needed to sit down. Tiredly she stumbled toward the nurses' station and sat down heavily in one of the chairs hanging her head in her hands. Taking a deep breath, she looked up at House who had followed her the short distance to the consol. "What were you guys doing out at strip club?"

"Does it really matter?" he asked her.

"House!"

House cringed as he heard _That Voice_ shriek over the din of the bustling ER.

"Uh oh, Mommy's home," Wilson chuckled in an aside to Kutner. House rolled his eyes at Wilson knowing he was going to be no help at all in his current state. That drunken moron must have called her on the ride over. He was going to kill Wilson.

"House! What the hell have you done now? Are you insane?"

Cuddy charged over to him in a purple velvet jogging suit with her hair pulled back in a messy ponytail at the top of her head. He let out a horrified gasp when he laid eyes on her. She had no make-up on and looked like she just rolled out of bed.

"Smeagol… who let you out of your cave?"

Kutner guffawed at his reference to the little creature from the Lord of the Rings. Either Cuddy didn't get it or she was so incensed with him that she barely blinked at him with her iron gray eyes. "Don't you even dare!" _Yep, she was incensed_. That pointed finger nail at him rivaled his mother's. He had a flashback to his teen years and quickly shook it off like a bad dream.

"Oh don't get your knickers in a twist, there Cuddles. Your boy wonder is just fine _and_ he still has his pants on," he told her not bothering to hide his sarcasm.

"And what about Chase, he may have his pants on but he CAN'T BREATHE!"

House ran a thumb over his brow. "Some one had an epi-pen on scene. He's going to be fine once he's on diphenhyramine and oxygen for a while."

"Why must you diminish everything's importance? How could you be so irresponsible?" she shouted at him.

"How was I supposed to know he was deathly allergic to strawberries?" he retorted.

"How do you _not_ know that?" Cameron shot at him from her chair. "You know everything else about all of us. How do you miss something this big?"

"So sue me," he tossed back at her. "I was trying to do you a favor. And it was working until the little glitch with the anaphylaxis…"

Cuddy threw her hands up in the air. "Oh, 'I have this all under control,' you said. 'I have a plan,' you said. I should have known better. Your plans always wind up with someone in the hospital or needing a hospital or going to a hospital! I should have known better than to trust a crazy person! "

He slid an annoyed glance at his two co-conspirators who were trying desperately to hold up their liquid bodies.

Wilson stepped forward adopting a serious 'I've got this all under control' expression. "Lisa-beesa, sweetie, it's fine. Really," He pursed his lips and drew his eyebrows close together as he slid his hand out horizontally like he was smoothing it all over making it all ok. "House was the responsible one. He wasn't even doing body shots. He had no idea that Karamel's body butter..."

"Wilson shut up," House muttered.

"… tasted like strawberries."

"Her body butter?" There was that shrieking again.

Wilson stumbled forward and put his hand on her shoulder knocking her in the chin as he did so. "I was the one that tasted…"

"Wilson shut up," he muttered again.

"…it first. I should have told…"

Cuddy's eyes singed him instantaneously as she flashed her ire at him. "You tasted a stripper's body butter?"

"I told you to shut up," House grunted in dismay.

He could see Wilson melt like a snowman under her scrutiny. "Oh my little buttercup," he slid his hand to her cheek and pawed at her like she were a shaggy little terrier. The only thing he was stroking was her fury; the action did nothing to smooth her bristly edges. "You are the only one I want to run my tongue over."

"Oh God I think I'm going to be sick," House groaned.

"Excuse me Dr. Cameron," a nurse came over gingerly, afraid to get involved in the heated debate.

"Yes, Mariel," Cameron turned.

"Dr. Chase is asking for you," she told her.

Cameron sighed with palpable relief and let out a little cry. She covered her mouth with her hand and stood up. "I'll be back."

HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

_He was asking for her. He was asking… to see her, to talk to her. That has to mean something. Maybe House was right.._. Cameron pushed down the little flutter of excitement that threatened to bubble over. No, she wasn't going to be overly eager about this. She was a grown woman for crying out loud, not some teenager who had been just asked to the prom. They were adults. They had broken up because she had hesitated at his proposal. Now they were just colleagues. Nothing more. Yeah, that was all fine and dandy, except why did he feel like her stomach was doing little flip flops like she was sixteen again? And why were her palms all sweaty and why was she smiling like a fool? Because she was a fool. She had learned a long time ago that is was best to be strong and prepare herself for the worst. So that's just what she did.

Taking a deep breath and fixing her expression into her well-practiced mask of professionalism, she opened the curtain to the patient area where they had taken Chase. Her heart squeezed in her chest at the sight of him. He was lying back against the pillow of the bed looking slightly ragged and a little rough around the edges. But damn he still looked so good, even if he had been without oxygen for a couple of minutes. She smiled ruefully as she approached the bed and lifted the chart from the hook on the end. His vitals were strong. They had started him on a diphenhyramine drip and his O2 sats looked better. _Just like House said, he was fine_.

Chase blinked at her, watching quietly as she took her time folding the chart closed and placing it back on the hook. He went to remove the nasal cannula but she stilled his hand with hers feeling a little surge of electricity pass between them. Their eyes locked and she held his gaze for a moment before she uncomfortably looked away. It had been almost two whole months since they had touched each other. It felt so odd to be so unforgivingly foreign yet so completely familiar with each other. How could they have let it go this far?

Removing her hand slowly, she dropped it uselessly by her side. "Your vitals are back within normal range. Everything looks good." Inwardly, she cringed at the clinical sound of her voice. Did she always sound that way when she spoke to him?

He nodded and when he went to speak his voice rasped dryly in his throat.

"Shh, don't talk," she urged gently. "I'll get you some water." She grabbed the carafe by the side of the bed and poured some into the paper cup sitting next to it. She handed it to him and carefully helped him to sip it wetting his irritated throat.

"Thank you," he said with a swallow as he rested back against the pillow. Cameron went to move away from him wanting to give him a little space. Instead, he reached out and squeezed her fingers in his hand. "We need to talk."

Cameron drew in a breath and steeled herself for the inevitable riot of emotion that was threatening to come over her like a storm. She dropped her eyes to their clasped hands and nodded imperceptibly. He was holding her left hand. The hand where his ring should be.

Cameron felt the tears rising in her chest to her throat and she set her jaw firmly. "I don't think we should talk here."

"I don't care," he told her tugging at her hand to bring her to sit on the bed. "I need to know some things. I need clarification."

"Chase," she spoke but her voice cracked with the unshed tears.

"Cameron, do you love me?"

The tears slipped past her protective barrier and ran a hot trail down her cheek. "Yes. I do love you."

"Do you love me because of me or because you can't be with House?"

Cameron closed her eyes to blink away her tears. She opened them again and held his gaze willing him to feel deep within her heart how she truly felt. "I love you because of how you make me feel when I am with you. How I feel about you has nothing to do with House. It never did."

"Then why are you so afraid," he implored. "Why are you so terrified to be in a relationship? To let me in? Why did you hesitate when I asked you to marry me?"

She began to cry a dawn of realization came over her. Cate had told her what it was, but she didn't truly understand it until just now, as she was about to speak the words. He could have died tonight. That very thought terrified her more than all the rest of it. "I am afraid of losing someone again. I can't lose another man that I love."

Chase raised his hand to her cheek and wiped at her tears streaming down her face. "You won't lose me."

"Chase you can't predict that, no one can," she told him.

"No, I can't predict if I'm going to accidentally lick strawberry body butter off of some stripper and die of anaphylactic shock any more than I can predict that I might get hit by a car tomorrow or… get cancer and die," he told her. "But what I can promise you is that I will do everything in my power to be there with you until my last dying breath. I love you and want to spend the rest of my life with you."

Dropping her head to his chest, she cried fully, the pent up emotions she had been so carefully hiding over the past few years tumbling forth out of her like a tidal wave. She missed him. She loved him. He was the one she wanted now and forever. "I want to spend the rest of my life with you too. I want to share those things that I was supposed to share with my husband but never got a chance to with you and only you," she declared. "I just needed some time to realize that."

"I'm so sorry for pushing you," he apologized remorsefully.

Wiping at her eyes with her shaking fingers she let out a little laugh. "Don't apologize, please. Sometimes I need a push because I can't see what staring me right in the face," she contended.

"I should have given you time. I was insecure. I let my feeling against House taint my perception of you," he looked at her with sad eyes. "Can you forgive me?"

Cameron cupped his face in her hands. "Of course I can forgive you."

Chase grimaced. "Can you forgive me for licking body butter off of a stripper and landing my sorry ass in the hospital?"

Cameron chuckled. "I think I can overlook it. Besides, I think that was House's ultimate plan."

"That he tried to kill me via stripper," he grunted incredulously.

"No. To try to get us back together. I think you were supposed to realize that you wanted me more than any other woman and beg me to come back," she answered.

"No, I think he tried to kill me," Chase contended and then laughed. "I hate that guy. He created this whole convoluted plan just to get me think I had one upped him only to pull the carpet right out from under me."

"No, he did it to be nice," she defended and then winced at how that sounded. "I know, it sounds ludicrous but believe me when I tell you he did it for us."

"House never does anything that doesn't serve his own purpose," Chase argued. "What possible motive could he have had to get us back together? Why should he give a rat's ass?"

"For Cate."

HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

House closed the door behind him with an exhausted sigh. He was going to sleep until Monday if he had anything to say about it. Tonight had been one of the most draining evenings he'd had in quite some time. Dropping his keys into the bowl on the credenza, he took off his jacket and hung it on the hook. The TV was playing almost silently as Thirteen slept soundly on the sofa. She had stopped texting him about three hours ago presumably when she had fallen asleep after she put Cate to bed around midnight. He briefly contemplated waking her up to kick her out but he figured he might as well just let her sleep there until morning. He didn't plan on getting up so she wasn't his problem.

He was secretly thankful that she had come to stay with Cate to take care of her. She was a good friend to her, to them both, though he rather die than admit that out loud. If he had to be away from Cate, he wanted someone he could trust with her to watch out for her. He knew Thirteen held his wife in great esteem and he knew that meant a lot to Cate. And if Cate was happy, that was pretty much all he cared about.

He ambled quietly over to the television to turn it off. Sexy Kitty was perched sleepily on Thirteen's shoulder as she slept. The little cat blinked at him in the dark not bothering to move from her warm little perch. _Good_, he thought to himself, _now he wouldn't have to share Cate with her for a change_. Leaving her to her new, heated bed, he turned toward the hallway. Slowly, he made it into the bedroom to find Cate sleeping restfully on his side of the bed. The IV pole was parked by the nightstand and he assumed that she was there so she wouldn't become tangled in the line as she slept since he had put it in her right hand before he left for the evening. Smiling, he went to her side of the bed and took off his tired, rumpled clothes before slipping underneath the comforter immediately rolling over to wrap his arms around her drawing her close against his body.

She was sound asleep and barely even moved as he tucked her against his front snuggling into her warmth. He placed his hand on her belly over her baby bump and closed his eyes. He was glad he didn't have to admit that he had been really worried for them tonight. Her amniotic fluid was quite low, indicating that she had been dehydrated for a while probably because of her constant bouts with morning sickness. Her BP had been borderline dangerously low as well. She really should have been admitted to the hospital tonight. And he should have been there with her. He hated having to leave them. This was the first real circumstance that had presented itself where he had to leave her when she needed him. And he didn't like that feeling when he walked out the door. Logically he knew she was in capable hands. Logically he knew that there would be many more times he was going to have to leave her in dire straits to go back to the hospital. But it still made him feel like he was abandoning her and that feeling, he realized, sucked.

Of course the whole purpose for tonight had nothing to do with his job, nor any kind of life or death situation. He was simply a conduit for Cameron and Chase to get back together, thereby making his wife happy. That was his sole motivation. His wife wanted them back together so he gave her what she wanted. If it happened to help Cameron in the process, well then, bonus for her. She evidently was grateful because she had hugged him tightly when she left the curtained area after speaking to Chase for a while. She had come back to the nurses' station and relayed the news to everyone that they were indeed engaged. Cuddy finally hopped off his jock about his irresponsibility and he couldn't help but rub it in that he had once again succeeded where she would have failed. Comparatively, Wilson was so excited that he could finally go home with his 'Lisa-beesa' to reenact the lyrics to _Sexy Back_ that he'd been incessantly singing for the better part of the night. Although, House knew from Wilson's past admissions of drunken escapades that there would be nothing of the sort happening in that house tonight.

Sighing contentedly in his own bed, finally tucked up against his wife and his little baby underneath his hand, House drifted off into a deep, deep sleep that only the really busy or stone cold dead could truly appreciate. Score one for Team House, matchmakers extraordinaire. All was finally quiet on the Western Front.


	19. Chapter 19: Home

Sessions II: Nine Months

Chapter 19: Home

Cate woke the next morning wrapped tightly in her husband's warm embrace. She closed her eyes and smiled a little smile of contentment as she snuggled deeper into the warmth of the comforter enjoying the weight of his arm around her waist. His hand had snaked up her t-shirt to gently cup her breast sometime during the night and his nose was tucked sweetly against the soft skin at the back of her neck. His breath tickled her as it went in and out but she did nothing to move away from it because it was always so nice to wake up next to him like that. Neither one of them moved very much while they slept. They woke up pretty much how they had fallen asleep although lately, he would always start with his hand protectively over their baby and then through the night it would gravitate to various parts of her body always lovingly keeping contact with her.

It always amazed Cate how clingy he was for a guy who couldn't stand any kind of personal contact, emotional or otherwise. Usually he avoided it like the plague except when it came to her. She had noticed early on in their relationship that he simply couldn't seem to keep his hands off of her. It had been a lovely surprise to find out Greg House was a snuggler, peculiar in its own right, but she loved every adorable second of it. When they were watching TV, he always had a hand on her foot or up her pant leg lazily stroking her skin. Sometimes he would pull her close and she would rest her head on his lap so he could play with her hair. When she was cooking, he would come into the kitchen and hug her and kiss her neck before grabbing a beer. When she was brushing her teeth, he would run his hand over her back and down to cup her behind sometimes with a little love tap but always with a devilish little smirk. It had become their routine, their way of circulating around in each other's orbit. She supposed he craved the gentleness of their touch because it was in stark contrast to the chronic pain he lived with on a daily basis. It was a sweet and consistent reminder that not all feeling was bad. No, it was oh so nice.

Not wanting to break the serenity of their cocoon, she lay there listing to his breath as he slept. She could tell from the deep even rhythm that he was utterly exhausted. She had no idea what time he had returned home last evening but knew it had to be sometime after two in the morning. Thirteen had helped her to bed around midnight. When she had gotten up an hour or so later to use the bathroom, he still wasn't home yet. She had been worried, loath as she was to admit it. She had practically invited him to drink and drive last night. Not only was it dangerous but it had implications far deeper than any of them wanted to remember.

Cate knew how he was a creature of habit, and exactly how those ingrained habits died a slow, hard death when faced with change. He hardly drank anymore and his Vicodin use had been greatly curtailed. Without any provocation from her, he had silently made a diligent effort to clean up his act since they had gotten married. And for that she was grateful. She trusted him implicitly with her life. That part of her was silently berating her traitorous heart for its momentary lack of faith; he wouldn't do anything so stupid as to jeopardize his own welfare after losing so much in the bus accident. Especially not now that they had a child on the way. Finding him, home safe, and in their bed with his arms around her was a tremendous relief.

Becoming uncomfortable and having to pee for like the fortieth time because of this stupid IV, Cate had to break the seal on their private little sanctum. She looked up to the near empty bag and decided that she had had enough fluid over the last twelve hours to float an entire armada let alone one tiny three inch baby in her uterus. She could feel her bladder and her uterus ballooning out and decided that enough was enough. Carefully, she pulled off the surgical tape and took out the catheter from the back of her hand. She pressed a tissue to dab at the small amount of blood where the needle had been and quietly rose out of bed to pad to the bathroom in search of a Band-Aid. Taking care of business, she quickly peed, washed her hands and peeked down the hall to see that Thirteen had left quietly sometime in the early hours of the morning. She would have to call her later to thank her for being such a good friend and coming to take such good care of her last night. It was nice to have a little girl-time for a change despite the circumstances.

Grabbing a tall glass of orange juice from the kitchen, she returned to the bedroom and climbed back into bed. He hadn't moved an inch since she left him. His hair was mussed in just the right way and his beard along with the faded navy blue rock t-shirt made him look like a badass biker who'd slept off a bender in Cinderella's poufy royal bed. And God damn, it made him even sexier than he normally was. Hunkering back down into the warmth of the comforter, she snuggled up along side his body facing him so she could place little kisses on his eyelids and cheeks. She had decided that Mr. Sexy Dangerous had slept enough.

In a flash, he threaded his arms around her and rolled her onto her back placing himself on top of her with a friendly growl. Cate squealed in surprise and delight and smacked at the muscles in his strong arms as they pinned her to the mattress. "You thought you could tease me while I was sleeping?"

"No," she giggled running her palms up his biceps to his shoulders. The smell of his sleep warmed skin encircled her in a lazy haze of desire.

"I think you were," he challenged with a wink and then bent his head to kiss her thoroughly. He pulled back and smiled down at her. "You taste like orange juice," he announced looking over his shoulder to the night table where she had deposited the glass.

She chuckled. "And you taste like shit."

"It's better than stripper," he told her rolling off to take a large gulp of the juice. Placing the glass back on the table, he rolled back and kissed her again, making her toes curl against his bare legs under the blanket. "Better?"

"Mmm, yes," she sighed placing her hands on his face to pull him down for another kiss. When he pulled back from her, she stared into his beautiful eyes expectantly waiting for his account of last evening's events. Truthfully, what she was really dying to know since she cracked her yes open, was how the whole evening played out. Was he successful in getting Chase to want to give it another go with Cameron? He was very resourceful and oddly persuasive, so he might just have been able to pull it off.

Grinning down at her, he rested on his elbows and arched his thoroughly expressive eyebrow at her. "What?"

"What do you mean 'what'? You know what."

He shook his head pretending not to know what she wanted. "What, what?"

Rolling her eyes on a chuckle, she shoved his shoulder ineffectively and he laughed at her. "How did it go last night?" she asked.

"Oh, _that_ what," he feigned ignorance and then frowned shaking his head at her. "Nuh uh. First you. How many IV bags?"

"Two," she answered obediently knowing there was no way around it. The quicker they got through this the quicker she could get details.

"How many times have you peed since?"

Damn the husband who was the Nephrologist. Kidneys and peeing… his specialty. "I don't know, maybe a dozen. I just went before," she told him.

"Have you had anything to drink yet this morning?"

"Just a few sips of the orange juice," she replied flicking her eyes to the glass beside them.

He sat up and dragged her with him as he unceremoniously thrust the glass into her hand. "Drink."

Taking it and sipping was her only option so she did as he instructed with only a minor protest, "I'm not a two year old you know."

He leveled his clear blue eyes at her clearly not in the mood for her stubbornness this morning. "You have to drink, regularly. There's no gray area in this. Period."

"I know," she sighed and finished the orange juice. Handing him the glass, he placed it back on the night stand and then brought his hand to caress her cheek. She smiled at him and placed her hand on his arm. "We're fine. Everything is better now." He nodded quietly, his eyes searching her face. He had been terribly worried, she could see it in the reflection of his eyes and that broke her heart. This was a minor scare, but it was a wakeup call. This baby meant more to them than either of them thought and the realization that they could lose it made them both scared.

"I think you should cut back on your hours at the hospital," he voiced carefully out loud dropping his hand from her cheek. She knew this was coming. And she also knew he was right. Her busy schedule had been taking quite a toll on her. She was exhausted all of the time and it frustrated her. Millions of pregnant women worked right up to their due dates. Why did she have to be so fragile? Why couldn't she tough it out like the rest of them? She hated to feel like a princess and a slacker. That just wasn't in her make up.

"I know," she agreed quietly. "I just don't want to."

"I know, but it's not about wanting to," he emphasized.

Sighing, she brought her hand up to his face and kissed him gently. He was right and she wanted to do right by their baby. She really couldn't fight him on it. "I'll talk to Lisa on Monday."

"Good," he murmured and then suddenly waggled his eyebrows before blowing a raspberry on her neck throwing her back down onto the mattress. "Because otherwise I'm going to have to discipline you for being a bad, bad girl."

Cate screamed out as his beard scraped and tickled at her electrified erogenous zone on her neck. She purred against him and laughed throatily as he made an exaggerated show of sniffing at her neck up to her ear.

"Coconut is infinitely better than strawberry," he declared as he nibbled on her ear. "It's _way_ more seductive."

"Why strawberry?" she questioned as his tongue whirled a circle around her earlobe.

"Never mind," he replied absentmindedly as his hand snaked up her t-shirt to continue the job it had started on its own earlier this morning.

"Isn't Chase allergic to strawberries," she mused reminded about something that Cameron had said. His hand stopped its quest for her taut nipple and splayed out against her ribcage instead. "What? What's the matter?" she cried. When he looked sheepishly away from her, she struggled to inch up closer to a seated position against the pillows. "Greg, what happened last night?"

"They're getting married," he announced with a cheeky grin and false sense of happiness that she knew he didn't have. "Mission accomplished."

Eyeing him, she snaked her hand through the tangle of his arms to tilt his face to look at her. "What'd you do?"

He rolled his eyes at her in feigned insult. "What makes you think I did something?" All she had to do was raise and eyebrow at him and he caved like a sink hole. "It was an accident. Really. I didn't _do_ anything."

"An accident?"

"I had no idea that Chase was allergic to strawberries. If I had, I wouldn't have brought him to see Karamel who just so happens to wear strawberry flavored body butter…"

Cate shifted and narrowed her eyes at him. "You're on a first name basis with strippers?"

_Where the hell did that come from, _she wondered as an uncharacteristic surge of jealousy raced through her. The question was bitchy and she knew it. But damn it, sometimes his casual attitude about the seedier side of his life irked her. Mentally, she shrugged it off the momentary rage chalking it up to the pregnancy hormones. His eyebrows knit into a line of confusion because he was deliberating on the merits of whether or not he should answer that question. Even _she_ knew there was no winning answer to that one. She had put him in a bad position and almost felt a little bad for blurting it out. Wisely, he clamped his mouth shut and said nothing.

Deciding not to pursue it any further, instead she asked, "So what exactly happened with this _accident_?"

He let out a heavy sigh, hung his head and then rolled off of her flat onto his back and placed his hands over his eyes while he stretched. "Chase did a body shot off of 'said' stripper and had a reaction to the strawberries. We had to take him to the ER."

"Oh my God!" Cate sat up fully and placed her hands on his chest. "Is he ok?"

"Yeah, he's fine. They made up and all is right with the world of perfectly pretty blonde people again," he muttered.

"They made up, how, what happened? Did they talk? What was the deal?"

He slanted his head at her from the pillow and gave her a disgruntled snort. "You can't ask three questions that mean the same thing. That's just not productive."

Clawing playfully at his chest, she shook him and let out a frustrated groan. "Tell me what happened."

"He called her back to talk, they talked for a while and she came out crying and said that they were engaged," he enumerated and then rolled his eyes. "Wilson was dry humping Cuddy in the middle of the ER and Kutner was puking his guts up by that point. I pretty much had my hands full with everyone else so we couldn't get all _girly and dish_. Sorry. That's all I got."

Cate grimaced at the image emerging in her mind's eye of the fiasco. For a second, she was glad she was strapped to the couch with an IV in her arm.

"I was thinking though, maybe we should have a girls' sleep over and all of you sexy little minxes could wear your thin little undershirts and panties and we'll all have a big pillow fight and then we could really dish with some whipped cream and chocolate sauce," he suggested with an impish little grin.

Cate arched her eyebrow at him. He was clearly trying to make a big joke out of all of this because it made him uncomfortable to know that in a convoluted, round about way he'd purposely done something nice for someone. "Keep dreaming Big Guy," she said patting him on the shoulder.

"Fine," he sighed exaggeratedly. "We can make a sundae with just you then." He tugged at her to fall down onto his chest so he could kiss her, his friskiness not to be waylaid but meaningless conversation. She leaned in and kissed him quickly before she pulled back and hopped off the bed. "Hey? Get back here. Where do you think you're going?"

"I have to pee again," she told him. "I'll be right back."

"You better hurry because I might shoot myself in the eye and then I'll be limping around here all day like a sexually frustrated one eyed lion!"

Cate giggled as she hurried up and peed. His impatience was unparalleled. After washing her hands, again, she returned to bed having left her pj bottoms and panties in the bathroom.

Upon opening his eyes and seeing her as she kneeled back on the bed, he bit the edge of his lip between his teeth and let out a low feral growl. "You are a tigress."

Slipping her hands up his belly under his shirt, she helped him take it off tossing it across the room. "Lions and tigers don't mate."

"They do," he corrected her as he took off her top leaving it somewhere off the side of the bed. "With human intervention. It's a hybrid animal called a _Liger_."

Cate laughed as she straddled his hips sliding down his boxers to his knees so he could kick them the rest of the way off. "You have way too much useless information in your head."

He kissed her soundly and pulled her down to the sheets hovering over her. "It's the dangers of watching National Geographic Chanel."

"This is more like the dangers of watching the Playboy Channel," she said against the beating pulse in his neck as he trailed hot kisses down her shoulder.

Suddenly, he paused just before entering her and looked her deep in the eyes. His blue eyes were sharp and deadly serious. "Never bring up Chase's name in our bed again."

"He was all but forgotten," she admonished breathlessly, raking her fingernails down his sides eager for him to be inside her. "You were one who brought him up again."

He grit his teeth on an aggravated sigh. "You brought him up first," he countered.

"Fine whatever," she argued. "I promise. Just shut up and fuck me already."

She didn't have to tell him twice.

HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

"Cate," House called her from the living room. "Cate?" She didn't answer right away so he got up from the desk chair and limped down the hallway to the bedroom to see what she was doing. He let out a weary sigh when he saw her. "What the hell are you doing?"

"I'm changing the sheets on the bed," she replied. "What does it look like I'm doing?"

He ran a hand over his face to stop himself from saying something out of frustration. Her stubbornness was going to be the death of him. "You're supposed to be resting."

He caught the eye roll she thought she hid behind the fluffing of the top sheet and he reached out across the bed to rip the sheet from her hands.

"Hey," she shouted grabbing the tail and pulling it back to her side. He tightened his grip and accidentally yanked her back against the edge of the bed. Laughing, she pulled harder and they were soon deadlocked in a ridiculous tug of war. Fighting back a smirk, she stared at him and eyed him saucily. "You know, this would go a lot faster if you helped me. And then in two minutes after we're done, I can finally lay down on it and _rest_."

He fought back a laugh. "Don't make me come over there and slap you," he grumbled through his teeth.

"Promises, promises," she quipped with a snarky little tilt to her head. Her eyes were flashing molten chocolate fire at him and he had to bite his lip to not go over there and throw her down on the bed. She cocked her fist impertinently on her hip. "Please just help me."

"Fine I'll help you but then you stop this cleaning tirade you're on and lay down," he bargained. "That's what we pay the cleaning lady for."

She let go of the sheet and he flounced it up so she could grab then ends and stretch it across the width of the bed. "I can't have the cleaning lady come and clean a messy house."

"That's retarded," he said tucking in the corners tight in a folded hospital triangle. "That's her job."

"It's not retarded," she argued throwing a pillow and a case at him. "It's embarrassing to have all this stuff laying around that she has to move to clean under. What does that say about me?"

"It says nothing about you. That's her JOB," he repeated louder shaking the pillow in and tossing it to the head of the bed. He caught the next one and repeated the process. She was cleaning for the cleaning lady. He couldn't believe they were actually having a discussion about this.

"Whatever, you're not going to change my mind," she contended shaking down her own pillow.

He stared at her incredulously and waited for her to finish with the last pillow before helping her drape the heavy down comforter over the bed. "I pay her a hundred bucks a week to move the shit and clean under, in and around it so we don't have to. Because, you know why? It's her job. We're done. Now get your ass in bed."

"Nah, I don't feel like lying down in bed." She shook her head and sauntered out of the bedroom.

_Ooo, she was being a playful bitch_. He fisted his hands at his sides and let out a stifled little growl. God he hated when she did that, just walked away and left the room so he had to follow and catch up to her. "Fine. Then park your ass on the couch for all I care," he barked limping heavily after her. "But you're done cleaning."

She was in the kitchen now he could hear her near the sink. "I swear to God if you even touch a sponge in here," he threatened coming around the corner.

She tinkled her ice cubes in her glass at him and then poured herself a class of water from the filtered jug. "Drinking part of my daily ration, Boss Man."

He narrowed his eyes at her pleased that she was following at least one of his orders this afternoon. "Good," he stated grabbing his own glass and filled it before downing a Vicodin from the pill bottle in the pocket of his jeans. The pain in his leg was starting to rear its ugly head and he needed a little willpower on his side because she was pushing his tiny buttons today. He was down to six pills a day, a fair sight less than he'd ever taken even way back at the beginning. He still denied that the extent of his pain was psychosomatic and linked to his emotional state like everyone else contended, but he did agree that the Vicodin tended to exaggerate the pain especially when he took more than normal human consumption should allow.

Cate came over to him and laced her arms around his waist resting her head against his chest. "I'm hungry."

"I call for Chinese in a little bit after I finish paying the bills," he told her rubbing his hands along her back. _Oh yeah, now he remembered what he had called her for in the first place_. "Have you seen the electric bill?"

She pulled back from him and looked at him with innocent eyes. "Yeah, I paid it last week."

"What? Why would you do that?" he asked her aggravatedly. He had a system. She knew he had a system. _What the fuck?_

She turned her head curiously at him. "So that we continue to have light?"

He rolled his eyes and let out a frustrated breath. "Were you going to tell me or just let me think that the magic little electric fairies were burning the midnight oil?"

"What are you getting your panties in a bunch for? So I paid the bill. It was just easier to do that then have to go and figure out half of everything later. It's a pain in the ass."

House let out a sigh and let go of her waist placing his hands behind him on the counter. "I've been meaning to talk to you about something."

She reached out and grabbed his hand. "Come. Let's sit down on the couch," she said taking him and her water with her to the sofa. "I'm tired."

He pushed himself off the counter and shook his head. _Now, she was tired. Now that he had to talk to her…_ Sighing, he followed her into the living room and sat down in his spot on the sofa. She came to sit facing him, cross-legged on the couch. He could see her little baby bump protruding out just a little bit under her yoga pants and t-shirt. It was getting big and she looked adorable. He couldn't help himself. He leaned over and placed a kiss on her belly. She laughed and paced her hand on the back of his head lovingly before he sat up and took her free hand in his.

"What's the matter," she looked at him with worried eyes placing her glass down on the coffee table.

"Nothing's wrong. I've just been thinking that maybe we should combine our accounts and have one joint checking account so that we don't have to divide and figure out who's paying what. And then it'll be easier when we go to buy a house," he slid her a glance out of the corner of his eye.

"You want to buy a house?" Her eyes were huge as she blinked back at him in surprise.

He shrugged. It was something he'd thought about it since they found out they were going to have the baby. They were going to have to do at some point. He figured the sooner was probably the better. "Yeah, we're going to need more room eventually."

"But you love this place," she said sweetly squeezing his hand.

"It's just a place," he said looking at her slim fingers in his. "It's really too small to be raising a family in." He did love this place but it was rapidly outgrowing its usefulness.

Cate inched closer to him coming up to rest on her knees as she brought her other hand around the back of his head to stroke it softly. "Greg, we don't have to move just yet. We have time before we really need more space. The baby won't take up a lot of room for at least a year."

He looked her deep in the eye holding her gaze fore a minute before speaking. "I know. It's something to think about. We're married now. We're both doctors, it's not like we can't afford it. I want my kids to have a permanent home they don't ever have to move from."

She smiled warmly at him and kissed him tenderly on the lips. Her eyes told him that she completely understood what he was saying to her. He didn't want his child to have a life like he did. He wanted permanence and roots that went deep into the ground.

She giggled slightly and rested her forehead against his. "You said 'kids'."

"Kids? Plural? No I didn't."

"Uh huh, you did," she nodded with a bright smile. "Kids, with an 's'."

He made a face and shook his head. _Did he really?_ He couldn't possibly. And if he did, he certainly didn't mean it. _Did he?_ "Let's get through this one before we go all crazy and start talking about more tiny people coming out of your vagina."

Cate laughed at him and hugged him tightly. "Yeah, yeah, deny it all you want, Freudian slip. I heard you. You said it. The idea of more kids is somewhere back there in the recesses of your mind. You're thinking about it."

He pushed off of the sofa dumping her back against the cushions. "Yeah, right. They next thing you'll be making me want is a dog. Evil woman."

"The kids are going to need a puppy to play with in their big back yard," she called to him as he wandered back over to the bills on the desk.

"Yeah, fuck that!"

Her musical laughter washed over him and he could almost hear the kids running in the fresh cut grass with a big dopey dog lumbering after them. Shaking his head as he caught himself smiling, he wondered for the eight hundred and fiftieth time, what the fuck was happening to him? His Vicodin bottle dug into his hip as he sat down and he pushed it out of the crease of his leg. Irony was a bitch, wasn't it? He picked now to stop doing drugs like a fiend? What was he thinking? Mashing their last vestiges of freedom together into a financial melding of the minds? A house? Kids? _A fucking dog_? Who was this guy? And what the fuck did he do with the gimpy asshole who used to inhabit this body?


	20. Chapter 20: Delay

Sessions II: Nine Months

Chapter 20: Delay

Monday came and went. Tuesday did much of the same. Wednesday and Thursday slipped into the rest of the week without so much as a whimper. She was biding her time. He knew it. She knew he knew it. But she still couldn't do it. She still could not walk into Cuddy's office and play the "Mommy card". Every feminist particle of her being revolted against walking in there and asking to cut back on her hours at work just because she was tired and pregnant. It was stupid. It was illogical and it was irrational. She knew that too. But she just couldn't bring herself to do it.

Cate had always prided herself on her dogged work ethic. She worked tireless hours and never complained. It came with the territory. People didn't do crazy on a schedule. The mind cracked whenever it chose to crack; it didn't do it in daily, hour long appointments Monday through Friday from the respectable hours of 9:00AM to 5:00PM. Much like emergency medicine, crazy happened in chaos, in random spurts and in fits and starts. It made life exciting and unpredictable. And Cate was good at that. Chaos never unnerved her and making the unpredictable predictable was the ultimate challenge. She learned to develop a thick skin and to roll with the punches over the years. She was as tough as they came. It was part of what made her really good at her job. It was part of what excited her about her job.

It wasn't that the daily, weekly patient sessions were boring. People's drama was inherently interesting, sometimes even riveting. She was fascinated by people's motivations and what made them tick. Every session was a valid, crucial step in the healing process. The talking and the listening were just as captivating as the emergent psychosis that caused people's lives to crumble on a dime, sometimes even more so when they could delve deep in the psyche and sort out all of the mess. But to Cate, the two went hand in hand. Out of chaos, when the dust settled, healing took place. Out of the erratic, when coherent thoughts and patterns were established, productivity could emerge. It was life's balance. The good and the bad, the ugly and the beautiful, the death and rebirth.

That was the part she didn't want to give up. The symbiosis of the bad with the good. She didn't want to dump the chaos and pick up the pieces only after the dust settled. She didn't want to help establish patterns where she knew nothing of the erratic behavior that led to the break in the first place. Seeing someone at the lowest, most base point in their life was an electric experience. It wasn't about being a savior or a fixer for her. It was about being a conduit for that person at the time when they needed it the most. It was about being the bridge to the path of clarity and self-redemption. That was what excited her about the ER. It was true that some people just couldn't be helped, that brain chemicals or traumas so severe burned that bridge forever, never to be replaced. Rather, it was the ones who had a shot at a normal life that compelled her. Those were the ones that she connected to the most. Those were the ones that she just couldn't give up on.

_She just couldn't do it_.

Cate knew House was getting impatient with her. She knew he was going to be angry, if he wasn't already. She wasn't really sure because he's given her no cause for concern. But, she didn't see the point in quitting right now. Yes, she had a bout of dehydration brought on by too much morning sickness and not enough drinking of fluids. Yes, the situation was probably much worse than she wanted to admit but she'd learned her lesson. It had scared her. It was a reality check. A wake-up call. Never in her life did she think that she would be in the position to want and care for a child. That just wasn't in her plan; until now. Now, she was committed body, mind and soul to this baby. She was excited to be pregnant and she loved this child more than she ever thought possible even though she hadn't even met them yet. She had no idea who this tiny person would become but she felt a deep and searing reverence for them. This was her child, her flesh and blood. This child was a part of both him and her and that bonded her to both of them in a way that transcended any kind of vow. It was a bond that she would protect with every ounce of her being.

So, she would drink more, even if it meant peeing every five minutes throughout the day. She would schedule in breaks where she could rest and nap for a while. She would go slow and take it easy. They were in the second trimester now and things were looking up. She felt much, much better and the fatigue was starting to pass. There was no physical reason why she would not be able to continue to work. Woman did it all of the time. Since the beginning of time women were squatting in fields and delivering babies, putting them on their backs and going back to work. The human race had survived. They would too. Besides, she wasn't an idiot either, she wasn't going to place herself in harm's way and risk hurting the baby or herself. That's why she had big strong orderlies. They did all of the heavy restraining. She would balance the chaos and find order in the erratic. If she could do it with a delusional schizophrenic she could do it with herself, despite what her adorably sexy, borderline sociopath of a husband might think. And she meant that with all the love in the world…

She could handle this.

Signing the chart on her suicide consult, she flipped it closed and came face to face with a paper cup with two teabag tags hanging from the side.

"I brought you tea," Cameron said to her with a smile as she handed her the blistering hot cup. Her fingers burned through the little paper sleeve and she had to place it on the counter because it was too hot to hold onto.

Cate gave her a grateful smile. "Thank you. I could use some tea."

"You know he has all of us on liquid consumption watch, right?" the blonde doctor stated with an amused smile.

Cate took off the plastic lid and blew over the steaming hot liquid. "I kind of figured."

"It's kind of sweet," Cameron mused as she leaned on her elbows on the counter.

"It's kind of stalkerish," Cate murmured.

Cameron laughed at her and shifted her feet beneath her. "Wilson says that how he shows love."

"Wilson is an enabler."

"That's why they've been friends for so long," Cameron stated with a laugh.

Chuck, an extra large nurse from the psyche ward came into the nurses' station masked by a huge arrangement of flowers. Neither she nor Cameron could see his square stern face behind the abundance of blooms exploding out of the crystal vase in his meaty hands. He was a big guy, who took things very seriously, but had a soft, fuzzy warm heart.

"Oh my god those are so beautiful," Cameron cooed from her spot.

"They are. They must be for you from Chase," Cate told her with an excited wink. "A little 'I love you so much, _dahling_,' for Valentine's Day."

"You think?" she said standing up a little self-consciously.

Chuck placed the over-sized arrangement on the counter between them with a disgruntled snort. "These were delivered to the psyche ward. They sent them down here."

Cameron placed her hand on her hip and slid a saucy little look at Cate. "They aren't for me. They're for you."

"What? No they're not," Cate said indignantly. Greg would never send her flowers. That was too… conventional. Too… predictable. He hated Valentine's Day. It was trite.

Cate narrowed her eyes suspiciously and watched as Cameron plucked the lavender enveloped card from its perch. "_Cate_." She flicked it to face her. "And this is his handwriting."

"Let me see that," Cate said stealing the card from her fingers. It was indeed his handwriting. That meant he actually _went_ to florist. _What the hell?_

Sliding the little card out from the envelope, she looked at the lovely blooms creating a riot of scents around them. It was a gianormous bouquet of happy white daisies smattered with full white and yellow roses and enormous white lilies. It was exquisite.

She read the card out loud. "_It's you and me against everybody, baby – Luke to Laura, 1980_."

Cameron placed her hand over her mouth and her other over her heart. "Oh my God, Cate. My heart just skipped a beat."

"Mine did too," she whispered blinking back a wave of joyful tears. She couldn't believe he went to such lengths to do something like this for her. This was so out of his scope. And, that made her love it even more. She leaned in to smell the delicious sweetness of the lilies. "Daisies are my favorite flower. How did he know that?"

Cameron brought her nose close to share in the aroma. "You never mentioned it at one point? He remembers everything."

"I don't know, maybe," she wondered. "I must have."

"Wow," Cameron stood back and gaped at the flowers in awe. "He sent you flowers…"

"The skinny lesbian's usually the one who's in the running for the state the obvious contest…"

Cate and Cameron spun around to look at House who was now looming behind them with a curious arch of his eyebrow. Cameron lips quirked into a smile and she patted his wool covered arm as she rounded the console to stand behind the desk. He had on his dark charcoal sport coat over a navy blue button down layered over a white, splatter painted tee. Cate turned to him and beamed a smile at him. He was sexy as all get out today because he had gotten his hair cut yesterday and the silver in his hair was more pronounced around the sides of his head matching the stray salt and pepper of his scruff.

"You sent me flowers," she voiced bringing her hands up to his lapels.

He rolled his eyes a bit. "Not you too…"

Taking his face into her hands she placed a sweet kiss on his lips. Clearing his throat he took an awkward step back from her as the skin on his cheeks blushed slightly pink. Subtle as it was, only she would really recognize it and she smiled at her disarming effect on him. He was uncomfortable with public displays of affection especially if it was to thank or praise him for something he'd done of his own accord. His shyness in these situations was incredibly endearing.

Cate caught the small, knowing smile of Cameron as she pretended to busy herself with her charts and they shared a look before Cate turned her attention back to her husband. "They are absolutely beautiful. I love them. Thank you."

He nodded once at her looking off to the side and then drew his eyebrows together in a frown. "How come you're not upstairs in your office?"

Cate stepped back from him slightly, unable to meet his questioning eyes. She picked up her tea cup and swallowed a large gulp promptly burning her tongue. _Damn it_. "I'm here on a suicide consult." Wiping at her mouth she tried to look nonchalant_. Shit, that practically took off the roof of her mouth_. She was going to lose her taste buds for a week. _Idiot_…

Arching his eyebrows at her now, he nodded at her with his scruffy chin. "You're wearing scrubs."

Cate blinked slowly. "They're comfortable."

"And they're the apparel of choice when you're working in the ER."

"Now who's in the running for the state the obvious contest," she countered. She meant it to come out in a joking manner but it sort of flew out with a sharp edge that metaphorically nicked him on the cheek.

"Since we're playing," he rejoined leaning on his cane with a fierce frown, "how about this for obvious; you haven't spoken to Cuddy at all this entire week."

Cate stared at him evenly. _Oh yeah, he was angry_. To his credit, he was holding it in check very well. "I haven't had a chance to," she avoided surreptitiously.

"Haven't or won't?" he questioned more forcefully, pushing the issue.

"Haven't," she replied defensively. Letting out a sigh, she looked at her hands. "I will when it becomes necessary." She didn't know how to tell him she'd changed her mind.

He tapped his cane irritatedly on the floor for a few beats. "And when exactly is it going to be necessary? When your blood pressure tanks again? Or maybe when you're preeclamptic? How 'bout then?"

Cate caught Cameron's raised eyebrow out of the corner of her eye. Cate slid her friend an aggravated glance. _Whose side was she on anyway?_

"It's been a week, Cate." His voice was insistent and she quickly discovered she didn't like being on the receiving end of it.

Cate flashed her eyes back at him and crossed her arms stubbornly against her chest.

"You said you were going to talk to Cuddy on Monday. Now it's Friday and you still haven't done it…"

"I know." His tone was starting to chafe her and she was quickly losing her temper. He was giving her a time limit? _Oh, that was rich_. How dare he rush her into this? I the situation were reversed somehow, she'd need an atomic bomb to get him to move quickly on something this critical.

"I think I've been more than patient with you…" he pressed.

Cate shifted her weight to her other hip. "I just don't want to. I don't think it's necessary anymore." This was her decision to make, not his.

"Maybe you guys should take this into the office," Cameron suggested carefully. Neither one of them heard her, however.

House brought his hand to rub at his eyes and then brought it in front of his chest holding the complexity of her stubborn nature in front of him like an emotional burden. "I'm not telling you to quit your job, I'm telling you to cut back on the really strenuous parts, like early morning psych rounds and all day shifts in the ER."

Cate narrowed her eyes at him and then pulled back. "You're _telling_ me? How about you _ask_ me? And I make a choice?"

"What?" he hissed in confusion. "Telling, asking, whatever; you _are_ making a choice and the choice you're making is wrong."

"Oh, so now I'm wrong?" she gasped in astonishment. She was seething now. Now, he'd pushed her too far.

"You're damn right you're wrong." He bent his head looming his piercing blue eyes at her like he could intimated her into doing whatever he wanted. He was acting like he did with everyone else. _Well, she wasn't everyone else._

Cate pulled herself up to her full height, which really only brought her up to the middle of his chest in these stupid shoes. She jabbed her finger in the center of his chest and he stared at her finger with his jaw tight in frustration. "I am not wrong. I just don't agree with you…"

"Once again, whatever…" he spat out derisively.

"I believe it was you who said to me just down that little hallway over there, 'bang your head against the wall. You'll get things done faster that way'." And with that she fixed her shoulders proudly and turned on her heal stalking away from him. To go cry. But he didn't have to know that.

HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

She was fucking walking away from him again. _Again_! God damn, he fucking hated that with a passion! He let out a growl of supreme frustration and spun around to look at Cameron.

"Can't you find someone else to come and do your psyche consults down here?" he bellowed at her.

Cameron held her hands up and shook her head at him. "Oh no you don't. I am not getting in the middle of this. This is between you and her. Leave me out of it." She swept up a pile of folders and retreated into her office leaving him standing there in a pool of unspent anger and no one to take it out on.

He clamped his mouth shut and let out a sharp breath through his nose like a bull itching for a fight. He turned his head slanting his eyes to the side. The fucking happy daisies stared at him like perky little sunshine flowers mocking him, taunting him with their sickening joy. He couldn't stand it. Furious, he swiped his fist at the crystal vase shoving it forcefully off the desk to the floor with a satisfying crash. The vase shattered on the linoleum floor into a thousand tiny shards in a six foot radius at his feet. The fucking happy little flowers scattered like pickup sticks, bent and broken on the chips of glass in a puddle of water. Damaged, they still mocked him, their happiness in ruins; only now they told him he was the biggest asshole on the planet. Muttering an oath under his breath, he kicked at the flowers as he stepped through the mess and left the ER, more furious than he'd been in a really, really long time.

HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

_A/N: Okay… I know. I can hear you all screaming. Believe me when I tell you I had to hold back tears as I wrote this. My heart broke. I didn't want it to go there, but House is after all, House and things don't go smoothly for very long. Things will get better, I promise. Because ultimately, he's right and Cate is being stubborn, but I couldn't let her go quietly into the night either! The girl's got an opinion and a mind of her own. See you next chapter!_


	21. Chapter 21: Storm Clouds Brewing

Sessions II: Nine Months

Chapter 21: Storm Clouds Brewing

House leaned his elbows against the chilly cement of his balcony wall and stared out through the dim gray haze to the sidewalk below. The sky had that thick solid quality to it right before a snowstorm and there was a deafening silence that blanketed the air around him. A Nor-Easter of biblical proportions was coming within the hour, so his leg had been screaming at him all day. Dampness and cold were the two worst culprits in his incessant battle with his pain. For the first time in over two months he had taken three Vicodin pills at once. The nagging voice at the back of his conscience, which sounded suspiciously like Wilson's right now, told him it had everything to do with the fact that he had thoroughly pissed off his wife and nothing to do with the fact that the barometer had fallen to the depths of freezing. A cold front had most certainly moved in, except he knew it had nothing to do with the impending storm. He was on her shit list, and in the proverbial dog house.

Wilson pulled open his door and clapped his hands together and rubbed them vigorously at the shock of cold air slicing through his thin dress shirt to his skin. "What are you doing out here? It's twenty-five degrees outside." Wilson's nose turned an immediate shade of red and his breath billowed out from his nose as he tucked his hands under his armpits. "Aren't you freezing?"

"I've had three Vicodin. I can't feel anything," House muttered.

"Uh oh. What happened?"

House narrowed his eyes at him. "What do you think happened?"

"I don't know. Why don't you tell me?" He looked honestly concerned as he danced from foot to foot in a futile attempt to keep warm.

House sighed heavily and continued to look out at nothing in particular. "I turned back into me."

"Huh? What do you… Oh…" he said with the gravity of realization. His face scrunched up into a wince. "Bad?"

"Yeah. You could say that."

"What did you do?" he questioned carefully and then held his hand up changing his mind. "Wait. Can we go inside? I'm freezing my balls off."

House rolled his eyes and turned to go back into his office. _Fine, if he just had to be a wuss about it…_ Wilson hopped over the wall a second later and followed him in, shivering and rubbing his hands together to bring the circulation back into his fingers as if he'd been the one standing out there for the last twenty minutes.

House folded himself into his desk chair and placed his elbow on the armrest, rubbing his tired eyes with his hand. Wilson took the chair in front of his desk and continued to blow warm air onto his hands. "So, out with it. What'd you do?"

House blew out a pent up breath and looked at Wilson for a beat. "I technically didn't _do anything_ other than give a shit about her health."

Wilson narrowed his eyes in confusion. "I'm not following."

"She was supposed to talk to Cuddy about cutting back her hours," he began running his thumbnail along the rough stubble at the edge of his mouth becoming mesmerized by the sharp edges of his beard dragging against the thin ridge of his nail.

"Yeah, I remember," Wilson prompted bringing him back to the conversation as he began to defrost and take a more relaxed pose in his chair.

"Well, she didn't go to Cuddy, and was working in the ER," he said.

"Ok, still not following,"

House grunted irrtitatedly and dropped his hand to his lap. "What do you want? A trail of crackers? This really isn't that hard to follow."

Wilson rolled his eyes at him. "What did you say to piss her off? Because if I know you, you weren't Mr. Patience about this."

"She accused me of ordering her to quit her job."

"Did you?"

"No. I didn't." he shouted indignantly. Wilson raised a disbelieving eyebrow. House rolled his eyes at him. Of course he assumed that was exactly what he'd done. "_I didn't_," he repeated forcefully.

"Ok, so other than maybe being a little stubborn about …"

House cut him off with his hand. "I told her she was making the wrong choice."

"Well that would do it," he surmised, nodding his head. "Women are never wrong."

"Yeah, they are," he disagreed. "They're wrong a lot."

"Of course they're wrong," Wilson said. "They're just never wrong in an argument."

House rolled his eyes. "Yeah well… that's ridiculous."

"Have you ever had an argument with you? You're the same way," Wilson grumbled. "Women just look prettier when they're doing it. And the make-up sex is better."

House grunted at him. "Yeah, well if you weren't such a righteous nag, I'd put out more."

Wilson ignored him and shrugged. "So this doesn't sound like a really big deal, tell her you're sorry and move on."

"I'm not going to tell her I'm sorry, she really does need to cut back. I'm not the one who's wrong here."

"Maybe, but you can't force her if she's not ready," Wilson advised.

"You want to know the worst part?"

"What?"

"I sent her flowers."

"After the fight? That's perfect." Wilson looked like a proud papa on his son's graduation day.

"No..." House muttered and ran his thumb over his eyebrow. "I sent her flowers for Valentine's Day."

"That's great." Wilson smiled at him, feeling finally vindicated that all of his hard work was coming to fruition.

House lowered his eyes to start at the stray paper clip lying on his desk blotter. "Yeah, she loved them. Cameron loved them." His finger pushed the twisted metal around in a circle.

"But?"

"I smashed the flowers."

"What?"

"Pushed them right off the counter…"

"What? House! You idiot!"

"I was pissed off."

"In front of her?" His voice was escalating to that hysterical quality that made House want to scratch his eyes out.

"Nope. After she walked away from me. Again." _Damn, that still chapped his ass_. He couldn't fucking stand that. "She didn't see me do it."

Wilson started to laugh.

"What are you laughing about? I totally fucked myself."

"Why the hell would you do that?" Wilson's tone was somewhere between incredulous and amused.

"I'm so happy to amuse you," House muttered rolling his eyes. "They were fucking annoying. So perky and happy. They pissed me off."

"You _are_ an idiot. You smashed the flowers that you gave our wife for Valentine's Day, because she was mad at you. Because they were happy." He burst out into a peel of laughter. "You symbolically destroyed happiness."

House screwed his face into a twisted mask of confusion. "What? That's horse shi…"

Wilson reached out a finger, cutting him off in a demonstrative circle ending in a sharp point at him. "_You are an idiot_. By taking your anger out on her flowers, you were symbolically sabotaging yourself and your, admittedly surprising, run of happiness."

House scoffed at him and looked away to his empty light box on the wall. "You don't know what the fuck you're talking about. You sound like Cate with all of that bullshit psychobabble crap."

"It's not crap," Wilson argued. "I bet she'd say the same thing, if you know, she could see past the blinding rage when she finds out you killed her flowers."

"It _is_ crap," House persisted, leveling his eyes at him to drive his point home. "You are so far off base."

"Am I?" Wilson raised an eyebrow at him. "Am I really?"

It was a lie. He knew it. But he was never going to admit that there might have been an iota of truth to what Wilson was saying. At least not to him. However, maybe he was right. Maybe he _had_ had a string of happiness that lasted too long. Happiness in general was suspect to him. Happiness of any kind of duration was virtually unheard of, so this whole 'admittedly surprising run of happiness' was clearly a fluke. It was bound to end sometime; and it was most certainly bound to be his fault.

"So what do I do?"

"Apologize."

"I'm not fucking apologizing," he grumbled.

"If you want to smooth things over with your wife, you have to apologize," Wilson concluded and stood up. "Even if you don't mean it."

House grunted. "This coming from the guy who's been divorced three times."

Wilson shrugged. "Fine, don't take my advice. Ask your guru. He'll tell you the same thing."

House watched his friend saunter out of his office back in the direction of his own. It pissed him off to no end when he got that righteous, swagger as he walked away, like he knew it was only a matter of time before his prophecy came to light. Like somehow he knew the answers to the test and everyone else should cheat off him. _Yeah well, fuck that guy… he was hardly ever right_.

"Hi, Dr. House."

House looked up from his hands that were still absently spinning the paper clip around on the surface of the desk. Yeasty Cheerleader Number One was reporting for duty. Looking briefly at his watch, he had no idea it was that late already. Had he known he was missing _General Hospital_, he wouldn't have endured that pointless conversation with Wilson.

Coming fully into the office, she took off her marshmallow stuffed ski coat and shoved her hat and gloves into her pockets before she came over to his desk excitedly bouncing like a three year old. "Look," she thrust a paper in his face.

Slowly, he brought his eyes to the torn edge of an envelope two inches from his face. "What's this?"

Kara rolled her eyes and placed her hand on her hip with a disgruntled huff. "Just read it."

With a distinct lack of enthusiasm, he took the envelope from her hand and read the outside. Printed in orange and black in the return address spot was the Princeton University logo. Quietly, he raised his eyebrows and pulled out the correspondence inside.

"_Dear Kara Chen, It is our great pleasure to inform you of your acceptance into the Pre-Med Program at Princeton University_…" House looked at her and leaned back in his chair leaving her letter on the desk. "Congratulations."

Kara narrowed her eyes at him and picked up her letter, fingering the black and orange letterhead with joyous reverence. "That's all you're going to say?"

He shrugged. "Yeah. That's generally what you say when people apply and are accepted."

"Aren't you proud of me?" she asked him with big eyes.

"Are _you_ proud of you?"

"Yeah, but… I thought you'd be proud that I got in?"

"It doesn't matter whether I'm proud as long as you are."

She considered him for a moment and for a second he thought she was going to start to cry. _Great_. Now he was two for two. Maybe he should go down to the clinic, shout at a couple of nurses and insult some ridiculously moronic mother about bringing her kid in for a runny nose and he would have hit for the cycle today. Narrowing her eyes at him, she screwed her face up into a pissy frown. "What's up your ass today?"

House blinked at her. "Nothing. What are you on your period or something? You just pulled a hormonal 180 on me there."

She flashed him attitude and shoved him out of the way to grab the pile of folders on the corner of his desk by his computer. "Don't deflect this onto me. I'm totally stoked because I've got a full ride to Princeton, which you would have known if you bothered to read the rest of the letter. You're the one who's got a problem."

"Just because you got a full ride doesn't mean you're smart. It means you're Asian," he snapped back at her.

She dropped her mouth open and gasped, pulling up all of her 4'11" frame at him. "I got a full ride to Princeton because I'm Asian _and_ smart which also means I'm smart enough to know that you're being a douche bag because you're in a bad mood. What did you do?"

"Why does everyone automatically assume that I did something wrong?" he groused offended that she pegged him right off the bat.

She chuckled at him and took her seat across from him reaching for a pen from the cup holder on his desk. "Umm because… you're a douche bag?"

"Yeah, you said that already. Does your mother know your talk like that to your elders?" he eyed her over his steepled fingers.

"Only when they deserve it," she stated pointedly, opening a file to forge his signature.

He narrowed his eyes at her and held back a little chuckle. Her feistiness amused him. She was one of the few people who could actually give it back to him almost sharper than he could dole it out. Her sass reminded him of Cate only less mature and more laced with 90210. Shaking his head, he looked at the picture frame on his desk. She had conspired with Cate to display his family like a 'normal human being' or so she had explained when he questioned her after the photo had just appeared one day. He had sat down with his coffee and was about to check his email and there it was staring back at him. Two others had appeared, not long after, along with the three ultrasound pictures. All of them in little brushed silver frames to match the decor. But this one was his favorite. It was one of the pictures taken right after their wedding in Jamaica. He was holding Cate from behind and growling into her ear as her head tilted away from him in a full out laugh that made her glow with a radiance that warmed his heart no matter how many times he looked at it. She was pure happiness.

Kara slid her eyes from him to the picture frame and a slow smile stole across her face into an impish little grin. "Ah. You should apologize, but you don't want to apologize, but you know you have to and that just gets under your skin like a little bug that keeps twitching and twitching until you want to claw it out. I get it."

He took a deep breath and frowned at her. He had to stop surrounding himself with these highly perceptive people. It was thoroughly annoying to be read like a first grade reading book.

"I totally get it," she empathized. "But, too bad. Get over it." She signed another chart and placed it on the pile. "And if you can't actually verbalize those three nasty little words, get her jewelry."

He laughed out loud then. "Get her jewelry."

"Yeah, something platinum. Something simple, yet tasteful and elegant."

He shook his head. "I don't know." His leg throbbed at him again and he rubbed at it to quell the persistent ache that had only been dulled to merely intolerable with his Vicodin. Swiveling around in his chair, he looked out to the balcony to see that the snow flakes had indeed started to fall. "Did you drive here?"

"Amanda dropped me off," she replied looking up from the charts.

"Come on, it's starting to snow. I'll take you home. We're done here today," he announced rising uncomfortably out of his seat. His leg buckled a little under him from the change in position and he had to flatten his palm against his desk to balance.

Kara closed the files and placed them in his out box rising to retrieve her coat without question. Biting down on a wince, he grabbed his cane limped heavily over to put on his pea coat. He wound the cashmere scarf he had stolen from Cate a while ago around his neck and closed his eyes. It smelled like her perfume and he secretly sniffed at it sometimes when he was driving just to get the scent of her. Resisting the urge to do so again, he swung his knapsack over his shoulder instead and held open the glass door ushering Kara out before him. They walked slowly to the elevator and she effortlessly adjusted her usually rapid staccato pace to his much slower one today. Pulling her long, thick black hair out from the strap of her messenger bag, she waited patiently in silence for the elevator to come. He appreciated her uncanny knack for ignoring his disability and all the joyous perks that came with it.

"Congratulations on your scholarship. That is pretty amazing," he said quietly as he stared at the red lights escalating… _1,2,3,4_.

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see her smile. "Thanks."

The last thing he did before leaving the hospital was text Cate.

::It's snowing. Be careful on the way home::

HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

Cate opened the door to the apartment that night with her one hand, her purse falling down off her shoulder into the crook of her elbow while she juggled the plastic water jug full of the remains of her Valentine's Day gift with her other. After she had returned to the ER from her self-indulgent crying jag following her tiff with House, a nurse had handed her the ugly pink hospital water container full of her bedraggled, damaged flowers with a sheepish frown. The nurse told her that they had been knocked off the counter in the midst of an incoming trauma, but Cate knew it was a cleverly orchestrated lie. She appreciated the effort however; it was sweet of the woman to try to protect her from what her irate husband had done. She had cried again, sad and hurt that he had taken out his anger at her on her beautiful flowers. She was furious with him for a couple of hours but her temper had cooled to a tepid nagging and she was finally able to accept that he had acted out of frustration and anger. He had done something nice for her, he wanted to protect her and their baby and she gave him shit about it. They were fighting. It was no excuse to lash out like he did but, she didn't really blame him. She was being a stubborn bitch and she had pushed his buttons.

Entering the living room, she saw that the TV was on and a fire burned in the fireplace. She was thankful that he had lit a fire because the snow was starting to fall heavily outside and she was chilled to the bone. A delicious smell came in to permeate the air from whatever he was cooking in the kitchen. Her heart squeezed with guilt about their quarrel; she felt terrible. On a positive note, however, he was home, cooking dinner and not avoiding her.

Carefully, she placed the makeshift vase down on the coffee table and took off her coat. Tossing it to the back of the couch along with her purse, she warmed her hands by the fire as Steve Levy from Sportscenter droned on in the background. Closing her eyes to the warmth, she let the fire calm her frayed nerves.

House came to the threshold of the doorway between the kitchen and living room. Cate bit her lip and looked at him with trepidation because she didn't want to fight anymore; she was tired and it had been a long day. His eyes held hers for a moment and then slid to the coffee table. He ran his hand over the back of his head shamefully as he eyed the flowers erratically sticking out every which way from the water container. His eyes clouded over in embarrassment and guilt as he brought them back to look at her. His anger deflated and he was left vulnerable, wondering if she could forgive him. Without a word, she went over to him and stepped into his embrace. Breathing a sigh of relief, he held her tightly to him and laid his cheek against her head as he breathed in the scent of her hair. Resting her forehead against his chest, she listened to the sad, steady beat of his heart as his breath hitched in his throat.

"I'm so sorry," she apologized.

He tipped her chin up so he could look in her eyes. A rueful smile tipped at the corners of his mouth. "I'm sorry about the flowers."

"Me too," she voiced sadly with a look in their direction. It really was shame, because they were so beautiful.

His face grew serious. "I'm not sorry about anything else."

Cate sighed and placed her hand against his heart. He brought his hand up to clasp her fingers holding them there against the softness of his t-shirt. "I know. We need to talk."

"Yes." He nodded and brushed her hair back off of her shoulder. He bent to kiss her forehead, "After dinner."

"You cooked," she stated.

"There you go again with the obvious," he muttered, his eyes downcast. He was joking but it was only with a quarter of the effort he usually put forth. "I figured I was due since I was an asshole about the flowers. Yeasty Cheerleader said I should have gotten you jewelry."

Taking pity on him, she chuckled slightly and tipped her face up to place a light kiss on his lips. It was her way of telling him he was let off the hook. "Food is the way to my forgiveness. What'd you make? It smells incredible and _I'm starving_."

"Steak with sautéed mushroom and onions, mashed potatoes and salad," he enumerated nondescriptly like he was listing symptoms.

"Salad? Seriously?" She eyed him speculatively. Salad was not his usual fare; it was more of a begrudging obstacle to get to the real food.

He shrugged. "Yeah, it's really more for you than for me. But I can sacrifice…" He ran his hands down her arms in a loving caress. "Why don't you go change? Dinner will be ready in a couple of minutes."

"Okay," she agreed taking his suggestion. She kissed him one more time and let him hug her tightly again before she traipsed to the bedroom to change out of her scrubs and into her pajamas. She went into the bathroom to wash the smell of the hospital off of her face before returning to the comfort of the couch.

They ate on the sofa while they watched the rest of Sportscenter. Things were quiet in the sports world. Cate couldn't really muster any enthusiasm anyway since it wasn't baseball season for real. Pitchers and catchers had reported to Spring Training but there wasn't much chatter about the Phillies, so she didn't really care. The analysts had talked about some prospects for the upcoming season, but that was still almost two months away. And right now, she was busy measuring the passage of time in weeks. She was fourteen weeks and counting, based on her latest sonogram today at her re-check with Sheldon because of the dehydration fiasco. He had said everything looked back to normal and she was pleased, not to mention extremely relieved.

After they cleaned up the dishes, Cate poured herself a glass of milk and returned to the couch. She settled in to her spot on the sofa under her blanket and waited for him to come back from changing into his jammie pants and his hooded Hopkins sweatshirt. His limp was heavily pronounced as he hobbled into the room and slumped into his spot opposite her on the sofa. He immediately took her foot into his lap as he cycled through the channels with the remote to find something interesting to watch. She wondered briefly if they were going to play the 'let's talk later silence game' but that fear was put to rest when he asked, "You saw Sheldon today I take it?"

"Yeah. He said everything looked great. Fluid was back to normal, baby's heart beat is strong, it's about four inches long now," she relayed unaware that her fingers had strayed to cover her belly over the blanket. "He printed two pictures again. I could actually see little fingers this time." She watched him from her position against the pillows. He was listening, intently, quietly. His eyebrows had furrowed together creating two deep crevasses in the middle.

"You went without me." It was a statement. Not a question. And that meant she had to choose her next words very carefully.

"They called to change the appointment," she began. "He had an emergency cesarean."

"You could have told me." Another statement. Not angry. Not accusatory.

Coming to a seated position, Cate sighed. He was being benign, but she knew it bothered him. Risking another flare up, she had to be honest. "I went alone because I just needed to hear him tell me everything was alright without you two getting into a pissing match especially after what happened between us this morning."

His jaw was set firmly and sliced his eyes from the TV to strike her with their chilly glare. "So you decided to punish me by depriving me of a sonogram?"

Cate winced. _That hurt_. She knew how much he loved to see the baby. "No. I… " she stammered. She knew how it was going to hurt him to not be there but she had done it anyway. "I don't know. Maybe."

"This is my kid too." He gave her a look that told her how much she had hurt him by excluding him, no matter what had transpired between them. Her heart cleaved in two and a fresh wave of tears prickled at her eyes.

"Greg. I'm so sorry."

The phone rang shrilly from its cradle on the end table by his shoulder effectively cutting off their conversation. With an aggravated sigh, he flicked his eyes to read the caller ID. "It's the hospital." Now even more aggravated, he picked up the receiver after the next ring and clicked the button. "What?"

Cate watched as his face turned from annoyance to concern in a nanosecond. She swallowed nervously straining to hear the voice on the other end.

"I'll be there as soon as I can." He clicked the phone off and tossed it onto the coffee table pushing himself off of the sofa biting back an agonizing grunt.

"What's wrong? What did they want?"

"My mother's been in a car accident," he told her as he went to retrieve his jeans and sneakers from their room.

Hurriedly, Cate hoped off the sofa trailing after him. "Oh my God, is she ok?"

As she came into the room, he was stepping into his jeans with his butt leaning against the edge of the mattress for balance. He was in a lot of pain. She could see it in the tightness of the lines around his eyes and the set of his jaw. Her heart ached for him. Moving to the night stand, she grabbed the amber pill bottle and took out two, holding them out to him. He closed his eyes and shook his head declining. "I just took two a half an hour ago."

"You need them," she insisted putting the pills in his hand. "I'll drive."

"No." He placed the pills on the surface and pushed himself off the bed. "It's a blizzard out there, which is why my mother had the accident in the first place. It's too dangerous. Why the hell she was out driving in this, I don't fucking know…" he bit back another frustrated groan and jammed his feet into his sneakers.

"Greg. The weather is making your leg unbearable. You need Vicodin and you're stressed. Let me drive you." He shook his head to protest but clamped his teeth down on another surge of pain. "We have four-wheel drive. You think Big Don would let me drive a car without teaching me how to drive in the snow? I lived in the South Pole for ten months. I drove a tractor with really big tires in a white out, doesn't that count?"

Throwing his head back and muttering an oath to the ceiling, he gave in. "God, just put your fucking jeans on and whatever else you need to be warm." He picked up the two pills and dry swallowed them while she hurried to get dressed. As she pulled her sweater over her head, she heard him mutter, "_The freaking women in my life are going to be the death of me…" _


	22. Chapter 22: Role Reversal

Sessions II: Nine Months

Chapter 22: Role Reversal

House pushed the door open to Cate's Range Rover as she hung the handicap tag from her rearview mirror before exiting. He hated that she had to have one of those in her car but it was one of those things that went with having a life with him. He hoisted his leg out with his hands and stepped down cautiously into a four inch pile of snow. The plows had cleared most of the parking lot near the ER but had left the handicapped parking until later. Gimps in wheel chairs and walkers usually didn't venture out in the snow and if they did, they were usually bought in by ambulance so handicapped parking wasn't much of a priority.

Pulling his coat tighter around him, he thrust his hand into his pocket and gripped the handle of his cane with the other, praying there was no ice underneath the powder coating the parking area. He hated snow. It was cold and wet. Anything that was cold and wet should have come from a tap into a nice frosty mug and not from the sky. The only purpose snow served was to make his life even more of a living hell. His pain threshold lowered to barely tolerable; every step he took was a treacherous test of balance and skill. If his cane hit a slippery spot, it did nothing to support his weight and he'd stumble. If his foot hit a slippery spot, he was on his ass faster than a fat kid on ice skates. Snow was misery incarnate.

Coming up along side him, Cate silently moved to his left side. He glanced at her knowing that she had positioned herself there just in case he needed to grab onto her if he slipped. Part of him was pissed because he had made it nine years alone with his crippled leg and didn't need anyone's pity. Part of him worried that if he did fall, he'd take her right down with him and he didn't want to hurt her or the baby. However, part of him thought it was sweet that she cared enough to amend her routines to accommodate him. She never pitied him and never made him feel like he was incapable; there was just this quiet acceptance. Looping her arm in his, she snuggled in close under the pretence of being cold. Her touch was always so warm and comforting. He supposed he could live with that.

They crossed the threshold to the ER and were met by the contrast of the warm, still air against their damp, cold skin. Loosening his coat, he led them to the nurses' station. Cameron met them immediately.

"Where's my mother?" he asked.

"They brought her in with head and spine stabilization, pupils equal and reactive to light, BP and pulse were normal," she listed knowing full well he wanted vitals, not platitudes. "I stitched up a wound on her forehead. They believe she hit the steering wheel. She's resting comfortably before we take her to CT. She probably has a mild concussion and a sprained wrist."

House ran his hand over his face and let out a sigh. "Ok."

"Curtain two," she motioned handing him the chart and then smiled at Cate patting her shoulder before she moved on to care for another patient.

"Why are you still here?" he called to her, knowing full well, she should have been out of there hours ago.

"Double shift, " she smiled and disappeared behind another curtain.

Cate followed him as he limped over to where his mother was resting. Pulling back the curtain, he saw his mother sitting peacefully in the bed with a bandage over her right eyebrow.

She gave him a reprimanding look as he hobbled over to her bedside. "Oh Gregory, you didn't have to come down here. I'm fine sweetheart." He bent to kiss her cheek as she took his face in her hands.

"Mom, what were you doing driving in this weather?" he ignored her allowing her to hug him. Even bumped and bruised in a bed, she still had the warmest, gentlest hands.

Letting go of him, she turned to Cate holding her hands out for her to come near. "Oh darling, you shouldn't have come out in this weather." The irony of her admonishment was not lost on House, however. It was because she had gone out in this weather that they needed to be there at all.

"Blythe, don't worry, I'm fine. We're here for you," she said sweetly returning her embrace before pulling back to smile warmly. "Are you ok?"

"Oh, it's just a little bump on the head," she diminished waving it off as nothing. "Nothing this old noggin can't handle."

Cate took her bandaged wrist in her hands inspecting her fingers. "And your wrist?"

"Just a little bruised," she brushed off with a delicate shrug.

House looked at her chart and came to sit on the side of the bed. He took her face in his hands and looked into her eyes to check her pupilary reactions with his own eyes.

She tried to swat him off but he grabbed her head. "Gregory, honestly. I'm fine."

"Mom, stop. You were in a car accident. You've hit your head. This is not just a little boo-boo."

"It's not nearly as dramatic as your bus accident, " she protested. Of course, she had to bring that up. He clamped his mouth shut on a retort knowing that his sarcasm would only bring down her motherly censure.

"Pupils are equal and reactive to light," he repeated Cameron's report. His hands checked her bandaged wrist as well. Fingers were mobile with slight swelling. Gently he laid her hand back in her lap. "You want to explain why you were out driving in a blizzard?"

His mother sighed and shook her head. "I was going to visit a friend for dinner."

He shook his head, confused. "Mom, you just moved here. How do you have friends to meet for dinner?"

Cate chuckled and shared a look with her before his mother turned her soft eyes to him. "Sweetheart, I moved here three months ago. I am capable of meeting new acquaintances and establishing friendships rather quickly." She gave him an empathetic laugh. If he didn't know her better, he would have mistaken it for pity. She knew how difficult it was for him to get close to people even before the infarction.

"Who were you going to meet?" he asked curiously.

Cate smiled. "Would you like us to call and let them know you're ok?"

She waved her hand at both of them dismissively. "It doesn't matter now. I was actually on my cell phone calling to cancel when that young man ran into me from behind."

"You were driving on your cell phone?" he asked incredulously. Cate shot him a look that told him he was being a giant hypocrite and he looked away from her. _Yeah, yeah, whatever… he did that all the time_. There was no need for his mother to know that.

Of course he could never lie to her, at least not for very long. The human polygraph rolled her eyes at him, having caught his avoidance tactics. "Gregory, I was pulled off to the side of the road and he slid into me. It wasn't my fault."

Cameron came into the curtained area, just then. "Mrs. House we're ready to take you for your CAT scan now." She turned to him. "I assume you'll be going?"

House nodded and got up from the bed. He pointed at Cate. "_You_ are _not_ going to radiology."

She rolled her eyes at him but didn't fight him on it for a change. "Fine. I'll get us some tea while you go do your manly protective thing."

"See how easy it is when you agree with me," he pointed out. Cameron chuckled under her breath and prepped the bed for transport.

"I've never had a CAT scan before," his mother said as she was secured into the bed and wheeled out.

"It's no big deal," he told her resting his cane on the mattress using the side rail for support.

"Maybe for you," she disagreed vehemently looking up at him. "But I don't make it a habit of bumping myself on the head and needing a big fancy probe of my insides."

"You'll be in and out in no time, Mrs. House. The procedure is completely painless," Cameron soothed her in her usual manner as they continued toward radiology.

His mother wrung her hands together lightly over her blanket that Cameron had tucked in closer before they left. She was nervous and trying her damnedest to remain composed in front of both of them.

"It's the tight spaces that I can't stomach," she said quietly. For as long as House could remember, she had always had a mild case of claustrophobia. She was definitely not going to like their CT machine. It was about as roomy as a single man submarine. She looked to him with a concerned look in her eyes. "I don't know how your father did it all those years, flying in that tiny cock pit. I swear I would go batty. Do you remember that time he took us to sit in his airplane, Greg?"

"Yup. A-4 Skyhawk, 1966, he made me sit on my hands because I wasn't allowed to touch anything."

"He was so proud to show you all of the gadgets," she recalled with nostalgia. "He told you about what each and every one did and you sat rapt with attention to his every word."

Cameron looked at him smiling a pleased little smile as she quietly listened to her tell this rare gem of a story about his childhood. His mother turned to look at her over her shoulder. "He had to know everything about everything."

"He still does," Cameron chuckled.

House rolled his eyes, embarrassed by the whole exchange.

She continued on, oblivious to his discomfort. "And he was never satisfied until he knew exactly how it worked and what it did."

"That hasn't changed either," came the next comment. Cameron was eating this up.

"Sometimes, I wondered if I was smart enough to keep him occupied," she recalled with a small shake of her head. She stopped suddenly, raising her hand gingerly to her temple because the movement made her feel a little dizzy.

Cameron smiled at her. "You must have done something right. He's one of the most brilliant doctors I know."

House groaned out loud. "I'm the only brilliant doctor you know. And enough of this icky, disgusting nonsense, you two. I'm going into hyperglycemic shock."

They made it to radiology and into the CT room. After a brief little hand holding session from Cameron, his mother was in, out and done in fifteen minutes. The scan revealed that she had slightly more than a mild concussion. There wasn't a whole lot of swelling but she would need to be under observation for a day or so to monitor her progress.

Coming back into the ER, they wheeled his mother back to the curtained area where she was assisted by a nurse to change back into her clothing. House and Cameron waited out by the nurses' station where they were met by Cate who had graciously gotten teas for both Cameron and his mother and a cup of much needed coffee for him. He took his from her gratefully taking a sip. "She's going to be coming home with us for the weekend."

Cate smiled at him sympathetically. "I figured as much." Placing her hand gently on his arm, she squeezed him in reassurance. "It's going to be fine. It's only a few days."

"Yup," he muttered focusing his attention to his paper coffee cup. After their fight today and the unfinished business resulting from it, he wasn't really up to having his mother within earshot of his every word. It was bad enough he wasn't in the mood to discuss it with Cate. It was unholy annoying that he had to persuade his wife to hang up her feminist work boots with his mother lingering around.

A few minutes later, his mother was escorted out by the nurse. Cate handed her the tea and took her to the waiting area. Once she had her seated, she then went out to drive the truck around to the front door. He finished up the remaining paperwork with Cameron and she went with him to help his mother into the car. Once his mom was settled in, he climbed in the front seat closing the door. Cameron waved goodbye and then went inside.

As they pulled out on the road, his mother spoke up from the back seat. "It's Valentine's Day, Gregory. What did you get your beautiful wife?"

House moaned internally and glanced at Cate in the driver's seat. Her eyes had an impish glint to them in the darkness of the vehicle as she pressed her lips together fighting back a devilish grin. She didn't have to say a word and he knew she was thoroughly enjoying his being in the hot seat. _Those fucking flowers. _

"I got her flowers, Mom." He hated that his voice sounded like a five-year old when he talked to his mother.

"Flowers, that's lovely dear."

"They were beautiful," Cate piped in, an imperceptible emphasis on the 'were'. _But oh, he heard it alright._

He flicked his eyes at her from the passenger seat nailing her with his stare. She almost giggled out loud.

"They were damaged in a trauma in the ER," she lied deftly leaving him to wonder if his mother would be able to detect that egregious fabrication. "So unfortunately, I only got to enjoy them for a little bit."

"Oh that's such a shame," she lamented absently as she looked out the window at the falling snow. "Well, we take the small moments and imprint their meaning on our hearts. No matter."

House's mouth dropped open in shock. _What_? She'd be able to smell the bullshit on that one from a mile a way if it came out of his mouth. _Oh, she most definitely had a concussion_. Cate giggled in her seat and slid him a teasing glance. He rolled his eyes and stared out to the slush and snow covered road watching his stinker of a wife skillfully maneuver the SUV through the streets back to their apartment.

After what seemed like double the time the journey normally took, they were finally back inside their warm house removing their coats and settling in for the night.

"Oh, sweetheart, is this what's left of them?" his mother expressed sadly as she laid eyes on the pathetic looking flowers on the coffee table. _Why the fuck did she have to bring those home? Oh yeah, to rub it in his face that he was an asshole_. Just in case he had forgotten.

"Yes," Cate said coming over by her. She plucked out a rose and held it out for his mother to take after sniffing it herself. His hands itched to be holding a glass of bourbon so he wandered into the kitchen to scratch it. Pouring himself a heavy glass, he listened to them go on about the broken, bedraggled flowers for a bit. A couple of swallows later, he couldn't give less of a shit about the damn flowers. They were just going to fucking die anyway.

"Whew, suddenly I'm very dizzy," his mother complained, a worried tone in her voice.

Cate took the bloom from her hand and laid it down on the table before putting a supportive arm around her shoulders. "It's because of the concussion."

"Are you sure it's nothing more serious?"

"It's normal to feel unbalanced and dizzy for a while, especially when moving too quickly. You're going to need to take it slow for the next couple of days until you get your footing back. Why don't we get you settled in bed so you can rest? It's been a long day."

"That sounds wonderful, dear."

House closed his eyes on another sip of bourbon marveling at Cate's amazing ability to keep the situation on an even keel. He loved his mother dearly but he never knew how to provide her with the comfort she often needed over the years. It was few and far between when it would happen that she needed it from him. His father would be gone and she would just break down from the weight of being in control all of the time. She was always the one to be in charge and stoically managing everything without complaint. She always had everything so together; she was the perfect Marine wife. But, sometimes it was too much and when she fell apart, it was big and he never knew how to handle that. He was barely able to handle himself let alone someone else who needed emotional support. His answer had always been, drink it away; take a few extra Vicodin. It would numb the feeling and be gone in the morning. But now… now he had decided that a life with Cate meant no more pushing his feelings down into the depths, no more covering them up with drugs and alcohol. He had vowed that he was not going to be _that guy_ and here he was, doing the exact thing he had promised himself he wouldn't do.

Taking his glass to the sink, he poured the contents down the drain on an oath before hobbling out of the kitchen away from the temptation. He went into the bedroom where Cate was tucking in his mother and he leaned against the wood of the door frame. He watched them lovingly interact with each other as if they had been related for years. It warmed his heart how much his mother grew to love Cate in such a short time and he was so grateful that Cate reciprocated that love. He knew in his heart that it wouldn't have been any other way, but he was relieved nonetheless to know that the two most important women in his life cared for one another.

Coming into the room he leaned over and kissed his mother on the forehead. "Good night, Mom."

She reached out and clasped hold of his fingers as he pulled up to standing. "Good night, sweetheart. I'm so sorry to be an inconvenience to you."

He shook his head and looked at his feet. "It's not a big deal."

"You are no trouble at all," Cate said gently placing her hand on his arm as she moved over to the door. "We're right here if you need us."

"Don't play the martyr and act like you don't want to bother us," he ordered gruffly. "Call us immediately, if you feel anything different."

His mother nodded gently, her eyes becoming sleepy as she rested her head back against the pillow. "I promise."

They said goodnight and he closed the door behind him following Cate into their room. She was already changing back into her pajamas and had her sweater and pants off. She was standing in her underwear and he could see the rounded swelling of her baby bump sticking out in the dim light from the bedside lamp. She looked beautiful and womanly in her sexy underwear and he felt a tug on his heart from deep inside. He limped over to her and hugged her from behind running his hands gently across the smooth skin over the taut muscle of her belly. She melted into him on a sigh bringing her hand up behind them to the back of his head. They remained like that, in each others arms, for a long while in the peacefulness and comfort of their embrace, their fight and the tension of the day forgotten.

All he wanted was for her to be safe. He didn't want to stifle her or cause her undue stress. He just wanted to protect her and the baby. That was the root of it all. He supposed that being a doctor and having too much information about the dangers of pregnancy was a bad thing in his hands. He had a tendency to be over the top. He knew it. But he could never live with himself if he saw symptoms of something dangerous and he did nothing about it because she was being stubborn. He would never forgive himself if he lost her or the baby because of it. It took him a while to come to terms with sharing his life with someone. There was no turning back now; he was in it heart and soul. She was his wife now and come hell or high water, they would somehow work this out. It may be through kicking and screaming and throwing of things but they would come to some kind of agreement on this. Even if it meant he had to take matters into his own hands, she was going to get a hundred and fifty percent of him, like or not.


	23. Chapter 23: Verbal Sparring

Sessions II: Nine Months

Chapter 23: Verbal Sparring

_Bacon. Crispy fried bacon_. Cate rolled over in the downy comfort of their bed relishing the crisp coolness of the other side of the pillow. She kept her eyes closed and chuckled to herself. She must be really hungry because she was dreaming about bacon.

She heard a swift inhale from House a mere twelve inches from her face and opened her eyes. Sleepy blue irises stared back at her in a haze of just waking up. She grinned at him and snuggled against the comforter. She loved watching him struggle to wake up in the morning. He was dopey and slow and supremely less intimidating than when he was full bore awake and on a grouchy tirade. If only his ducklings could see him when he was just a few intelligence points above Forest Gump, they wouldn't feel quite so inferior to his genius.

"Do you smell bacon?" he asked, his voice thick and heavy with sleep.

Cate cocked an eyebrow at him. "I thought I was just dreaming."

"My mother…"

"Your mother…"

Cate laughed and had to push him back against the pillows to halt his progress to right this breach of the rules. "Leave her be."

He let out a groan and rubbed at his eyes sinking into his pillow. "She has a concussion. She shouldn't be pretending to be Martha Stewart."

"She's probably fine," Cate declared. "She doesn't sleep much and I'm sure she just wanted to do something nice to thank us for coming to take care of her."

"Do you know who this friend is she was going to meet?" he asked. His eyebrows had come together in a line of confusion before letting out a big yawn.

"No. She's probably a friend she met at the book club she joined," Cate surmised.

He turned his head to look at her. "She joined a book club?"

Clucking her tongue at him, she shoved at his shoulder. "Do you ever talk to your mother?"

"You do?" he questioned, surprised.

Cate chuckled. "Yeah, we talk at least twice a week. I can't believe you don't call your own mother, Greg."

"Why should I?" he muttered stubbornly pretending like it didn't matter to him. "I didn't talk to her all that much _before_ she moved here. Why should I start now?"

"It would make her happy if you did. She did move up here to be close to you, you know."

He made a face and grunted. "She moved up here to be close to her grandchildren. Not me."

Cate rolled her eyes. "Yeah, she cares nothing about you only the little baby she implanted in me with her witchy powers."

He muttered something unintelligible in response and ran his hands over his face stretching his leg under the covers. Reaching out from the warmth of the covers, he grabbed his Vicodin swallowing two.

"Is the pain getting worse?" she asked trying to keep her tone nonchalant. She'd been noticing that he seemed to be relying on the medication more again and since he had told her that he wanted to cut back, she was concerned.

He sighed heavily waiting as the two dry pills scratched their way to his stomach before speaking. "It always gets bad around this time of year."

"How bad?"

"_Wanting to con a CIPA patient into giving me a spinal nerve_ kind of bad, _pretending I have brain cancer to get a drug implanted into my cerebral cortex_ kind of bad."

Cate looked at him weirdly, but decided not to ask. The answer would most certainly be right up there on the _clip a piece of DNA off his dead father_ kind of extreme. "Is it that bad right now?"

He shook his head. "No. It's the _treat everyone like shit around me_ kind of bad."

"Good to know." She smiled at him and rested her head against his chest. "Don't treat your mom like shit though, take it out on me if you have to."

"I'm not going to take it out on either one of you," he argued forcefully. "That's what I have the team for."

"Not them either, ok?" she chuckled. "We'll find some other outlet for your misery."

"I heard oral sex was a remarkable new analgesic," he said stroking her hair. He was starting to wake-up; his sense of humor was kicking in along with the Vicodin. "They said it needs to be administered everyday, sometimes twice."

Cate laughed. "Well, the endorphins produced by orgasm are quite powerful; almost on the level of morphine."

"Maybe we should conduct a study of our own," he suggested wiggling his hips by hers.

"Uh, uh. Your mother's here," she cut him off hopping out the bed.

"Oh come on," he whined like a child reaching out for her to come back to bed. "You seduced me the last time she was here and then screamed at the top of your lungs like a dirty little whore. You can't possibly care that she's here now."

Cate threw her robe on and searched for a pair of socks. "There's bacon and that means there's French toast. Baby needs food."

"Baby's Daddy needs pain reducing orgasm endorphins. Trumps food any day."

"Plus, I need something to drink. I'm feeling a little parched, and you know what happens when I don't have enough fluids," she said tugging at his arm trying to get him out of bed.

He laid back like a dead weight in protest. "See now that's just low. You either wear that card all the time or you don't get to play it at all. It's not a get out of jail free card you get to play whenever you want."

Cate dropped his hand and stepped back. The playfulness of their exchange had just gone right down the toilet. "You can jerk off in the shower if you need a fix. I'm going to have breakfast with your mother."

Leaving him in the bed, she went out into the hallway and paused for a breath before having to face Blythe. She hadn't meant to get so pissy. But damn it he was getting under her skin lately. Not only was she hormonal, he was in more pain than usual and that was like a volatile compound just waiting to blow. They had not resolved this situation and until they did, it was going to keep coming up like a bad penny.

Putting on a pleasant smile, she rounded the corner and entered the kitchen. Just as she crossed the threshold, she heard the bathroom door slam. _The lion was up_.

Blythe turned, startled and looked at her momentarily before regaining her composure. "Good morning, dear. I've made breakfast."

Smiling, Cate made a bee-line for the coffee but then changed immediate direction when she realized that she couldn't have any. _Fuck_! She wanted some caffeine; hot, sweet, roasted, caffeine-filled creamy deliciousness. _But no!_ She couldn't. Going to the cupboard, she grabbed a tall glass instead and went to the refrigerator filling it with ice and water.

"It smells wonderful in here," she complimented, remembering herself.

His mother eyed her with those all knowing, perceptive blue eyes she'd passed down to her son. There was a fine arch of the eyebrow not covered by the bandage and a suspicious little smile. Choosing to pretend that Blythe hadn't indeed just picked up the tension on her motherly radar, Cate quietly sipped her water and began taking down plates and silverware. She went in to set the table.

The lion entered in his flannel jammie pants and wrinkled white t-shirt looking like he was about to shred the first person who crossed his path. Essentially that had been her, not five minutes ago with that snotty retort about telling him to jack-off. He pierced her with a hot glare and followed her same path to the coffee maker except without the detour to the bland, icy cold water. Taking the mug from his hand, Blythe kissed him on the cheek before filling the cup and fixing it with cream and sugar for him. Cate watched him narrow his eyes at his mother and then melt into a twelve year old little boy.

"You're feeling better," he muttered accepting the coffee.

"Yes, much. I'd say good as new," she elaborated cheerfully and turned back to flip the batch of French toast.

Cate sipped her water watching him drink his coffee in front of her like he was a man coming out of the desert and it was his salvation. _Damn him for getting so much pleasure out of something she couldn't have._ Turning away from him, she rolled her eyes as she grabbed the butter and syrup from the fridge.

"You didn't pee yet this morning," he stated gruffly. His comment was directed at her not his mother.

Cate rose from bending down into the fridge and plastered a saucy grin on her face. "No, I figured you'd be using the bathroom first this morning, since you had such a _pressing_ _need_. So I just held it."

He stared at her over the rim of his mug raising his eyebrows accepting the challenge she'd just thrown down. He made a big show of taking a sip of the coffee swallowing it with an audible "Ahh." He tipped his mug at her. "Bathroom's free now. Why don't you go?"

"The urge went away," she tossed at him. "I'll be fine."

"Mom this coffee is delicious. How many scoops did you put in, ten or twelve?" he asked saccharine-sweet over his shoulder to her.

She held out the spatula as she turned to him, pausing in her stacking of the bread on the platter. "Eleven, dear." There was a question in her voice but she didn't pursue it.

"Cate, you really should taste this coffee," he exaggerated taking another sip and then insincerely frowned at her. "Oh, that's right, you can't have coffee, can you? Too much caffeine, _and_ it's a diuretic." She could practically hear the underlying subtext of - _If you were home paying attention to your fluid intake, you might be able to have a little coffee now and then without it killing you._

Cate flashed him an equally disingenuous smile. "It's ok sweetie. I don't really miss it." _And you are so going to need more Vicodin, because you aren't getting oral sex anytime soon, smartass._

"Breakfast is ready." Blythe took the plate of French toast and bacon out to the dining table seemingly oblivious to the exchange going on around her.

Cate grabbed a piece of bacon as she passed by on her way to the table. She held up the crispy strip like a food from the Gods and popped it in her mouth. Letting out a sigh of pleasure at the flavorful taste, she chewed it with deliberate movements savoring its saltiness on her tongue. She swallowed on a delicate gulp and opened her eyes leveling a heated stare at him. He watched holding his mug at his chest as she stuck her finger in her mouth licking the grease off demonstratively with her tongue and then pulling it out slowly, inch by inch, fellating it like a pro. She ended on a satisfying pop and blew a kiss at him. His eyes eclipsed to a dark shade of slate and he cleared his throat twice before taking another long sip of coffee.

"It's getting cold," Blythe called inadvertently breaking their eye contact. They were practically revenge-fucking each other with their eyes and it was anything but cold in there at that moment. "Are you two coming?"

He snorted almost spilling his coffee. "Almost," he muttered brushing past her close enough to run his free hand up and over the crotch of her jammie pants leaving her quivering in his wake. She gasped at the sensation burning between her thighs and his bold lewdness, which she in all actuality found incredibly hot. She watched his back as he lumbered over to the table and she wanted to bite his cute little ass. _ God, he made her such a dirty, filthy animal_…

Downing her ice cold glass of water, she refilled it and joined them at the table hoping to God she didn't look as flushed as she felt. House had already stacked five slices of French toast on his plate and was going for the bacon when he flashed her a 100-watt grin. "Bacon?"

Cate smiled and held out her plate. "Two please."

Depositing two strips on her plate, he added two slices of toast. "Whatever Baby wants, Baby gets."

"How _is_ my darling little grandbaby," Blythe asked.

"Good. Very good," Cate said cutting up her French toast to arrange her concoction of crumbled bacon over the sweet flavored bread topped with butter and syrup. "Four inches long now. Getting stronger ever day. You can see little fingers and toes on the ultrasound picture."

Blythe cooed appropriately as she delved into her own breakfast.

"Yeah, that's how I saw them," House interjected with mock innocence. "On the picture. Not the real ultra sound. You know, in the office, on the machine."

Blythe chewed her breakfast demurely and looked at her son in confusion. Cate stabbed him with a glare and then turned to Blythe. "He was busy working and couldn't come to the last appointment."

"Oh, sweetheart, your father wasn't even in the country when you were born," Blythe chided with a wave of her bandaged hand. It looked like a cat paw swatting at a mouse. "He didn't see you until you were two months old."

House's fork froze two inches from his open mouth. He stayed like that for almost a thirty whole seconds before he closed his eyes and tilted his head to the side revving up for a scathing remark. "Well, it's good to know his dedication to me dates way back to the day I was born."

"Now honey, there's no need to get maudlin over it," she admonished. "It was the times. Men weren't even in the delivery rooms even if they _weren't_ soldiers. It's no reflection how he felt about you. _He loved you_."

"As if I were his own," he caroled.

Cate kicked him under the table and he shot her a glare kicking her back. She fired back another fierce look trying to get him to stop his childish lashing out. _But then again who was she to talk?_ She was falling in step hook, line and sinker with the juvenile behavior.

Blythe sipped her coffee with a smirk. "So, is someone going to tell me what's going on between you two or am I going to have to listen to you snipe at each other and just guess?"

Cate finished chewing her mouthful and looked at him. He inhaled an irritated breath and looked back at her.

"We're fine." His voice had that fake optimistic quality he got when he was deflecting.

"Honey, I wasn't born yesterday," his mother told him and then turned to look at Cate.

Cate didn't really know what to do. If this were her mother, she would have talked, told her everything. Maybe not right in front of him but she surely would have discussed it to get her opinion, if not advice. But this was his mother, her mother in-law. She most certainly respected her opinion but she really didn't know her well enough to discuss their private affairs with her. And she honestly didn't' know how he would feel about it.

"We're fine," he repeated.

"Okay," she relented, albeit not believing him in the slightest.

House dug into his stack of French toast again shoving a fork full into his mouth. "So who is this friend you were going to meet for dinner?"

Cate closed her eyes mentally shaking her head. He was like a hound on the scent of a new mystery. He wasn't going to let it rest until he figured out who this person was that dragged his mother out in the middle of a snow storm. _God forbid the woman socialized_. She didn't really get why this was such an anomaly to him.

"Just someone I meet at my book club," she told him.

"See, I _told_ you," Cate said fixing him with a look that said, 'leave it alone'.

"So does this friend have a name?" he pressed, ignoring her.

"Joan," his mother supplied patiently.

"And does this Joan person live around here?"

"Yes, dear. Right here in Princeton."

Cate could see that his mother was becoming perturbed by his interrogation.

"So she _knew_ it was going to snow and yet, didn't cancel her plans with you before hand?"

Blythe heaved in sigh and let it out from her nose. She put on an indignant face and flicked her eyes pointedly at her son. "No, Gregory. She did not. We were planning to have diner at her place and then if the weather got too bad, I was going to spend the night. We misjudged how fast the storm came in and that's why I made a totally unnecessary journey."

He put his fork down on the plate and leaned back in his chair looking at her. He narrowed his eyes and scrutinized her, working his mouth into a frown and then a little smile of realization. "You're lying."

His mother blinked. "Pardon me?"

He pointed his finger at her and almost laughed. "You're flat out lying."

His mother's eyes turned a cool shade of blue. "Don't you point your finger at me."

Dropping his hand to the table, he laughed now. "Some part of that little story was a lie. Don't know which, but a lie nonetheless."

Cate was thoroughly confused. "Greg, why would she lie? That's ridiculous."

He shrugged and glanced at her. "I don't know. But it's true."

Rising from the table, Blythe stood and grabbed her empty plate with her non-injured hand. "How, and with whom, I choose to spend my time is my business. I'm your mother and I don't have to explain myself to you." She turned to Cate and smiled tightly. "Thank you for coming to get me, but I'll be calling a cab to go home now." She turned to leave but swooned at the swiftness of her movement loosing the fork and knife off her plate in the process.

Awkwardly, House quickly pushed his chair back and sort of half-caught, half-slammed his mother into the table to keep her from hitting the floor. Cate rushed over to rescue the plate from her hands that she somehow remarkably held onto. She heard him grunt as he struggled to support her weight in that awkward position. Doing the best she could, she tried to relieve the pressure from his leg by bracing Blythe's arm over her shoulder

"You're not going anywhere," he barked. "Help me get her to the sofa." They both flanked her and walk- stumbled across the room in a tangle. The trio finally made it to the couch in a heap and Blythe weakly extricated herself from their grasp. Cate helped her to raise her feet and noticed House hobble off behind the couch with his hand massaging his angry leg. He was trying to deal with the pain and not let it show on his face, but failing miserably. He fisted his hand into a white-knuckled grip and came around to see if she was alright.

Situating herself against the cushions of the sofa, Blythe sighed, defeated. "I feel like such an invalid."

Cate watched House wince at his mother's inadvertent insult. Opening and closing his fist, he frowned angrily. "You're going to be dizzy for a little while. You need to take it easy." He closed his eyes and softened his look to one of empathy. "There's no reason for you to go." Cate fluffed out the blanket over her and he brushed his hand over her forehead giving her a quick kiss on the cheek.

Blythe reached her hand up to his face and smiled appreciatively. "Thank you, sweetheart."

"No problem, Mom." He stood up. "Just rest."

Cate smiled warmly at him as his eyes met hers. He was burdened with taking care of both of them now. Of course he was a doctor and had every capability to do so but, it was the emotional toll that was of concern to Cate. He was not one to delve into the realm of caregiver, never mind sacrifice his own ideas and feelings for those of others. It was why they were having this ongoing skirmish about her well-being and now he was charged with handling his mother's, as well. It was interesting to see how much of himself he put aside in response to her. His mother was just as willful as he was but no one saw it coming because she hid it under the guise of a poised Southern woman. There was a fierceness to her that rivaled her son's and it was clear that not all of his personality was a divergent correlation to his father's unyielding discipline. She was intelligent, willful, and equally deft at undermining someone with her words. Cate wondered if it was an innate trait that she had passed to him or if she had honed it over the years in self preservation through dealing with an obstinate Greg and his perfection-seeking father.

Truth be told, she would probably never know.


	24. Chapter 24: Simply Wise

Sessions II: Nine Months

Chapter 24: Simply Wise

_The Home Depot_. This was the last place House thought he'd be today. He hardly ever set foot in the place unless he absolutely had to. It was a Mecca full of all sorts of DIY fun things like power tools and gadgets, but ninety percent of the things in there were for projects that required two good legs to assemble. He may have watched the _New Yankee Workshop,_ ad nauseum, but he wasn't about to go carve a credenza, or replace the shower head for that matter. No, he did what any logical, lazy one-legged man would do; he hired fat contractors to do the work for him. Hell, he was a doctor. He had enough money and resources to do that.

Now Wilson, on the other hand, was someone who liked to dabble in the handyman realm. He really sucked at it, but that never seemed to deter him. Today he was on a journey to replace light fixture in Cuddy's foyer. She had apparently gotten a wild burr under her saddle and complained that she didn't like its 'dated' look and wanted something more 'classical', whatever that meant. Of course, Boy Wonder Oncologist was on the case to right this injustice of décor immediately; on a Sunday afternoon after a snowstorm.

Pent up and going stir crazy with his mother malingering on his sofa, House literally jumped at the chance to get out of Dodge. He was at Cuddy's house in ten minutes and they arrived at _Home Depot_ in five.

The sun shone blindingly bright off the ten inches of snow that dumped on them during the storm. Now, it was piled in dunes and towering mountains of salted, grey ice in various spots in the parking lot. It was still bitter cold but the brilliant sun forced the piles into submission, melting into streams that wound their way across the asphalt to the storm drains. Cars, splattered with crusted road salt, splashed through the parking lot as he and Wilson walked the short distance from the handicapped spot which thankfully had been cleared and accessible by this point in the game.

"You know what you're looking for?" he questioned following Wilson to the lighting department.

"She wants something _simple yet, elegant_," he supplied looking up at the myriad of choices overhead.

"Why do women always use that to describe things they like? _Simple yet, elegant_, what exactly does that mean?"

Wilson shrugged placing his hands on his hips. "I guess, it means _not gaudy_."

"So what happens if you pick something that you think is _simple yet, elegant_ and you bring it home and she thinks it's the ugliest thing since Joan Rivers latest face lift? I'm sure she was going for _simple yet, elegant_ and came out looking like an extra-surprised circus freak on crack."

"It's a lighting fixture; I'm not remodeling the entire house. Besides, our tastes kind of run in the same realm; for the most part."

House snorted. "For the most part? Cuddy's all _traditional, chic_ and you're all _living la vida outta my suitcase in a hotel_. You have no idea what style you like. Every house you've ever lived in was decorated by the woman who owned your balls at the time."

"How bad could it be? Most of these look pretty nice," he debated. Pointing at a dark burnished scrolling chandelier, he said "What about this?"

"It's a 1940's Cape Cod, you want something…" he rolled his eyes, _damned if they weren't right_, "… _simple yet, elegant_."

Wilson rolled his eyes at him. "I take it that means no big scrolling things."

House shook his head. "Nah. Too ornate."

"Plain." He looked at House and then raised his eyebrows a dawn of understanding coming over him. "It means _plain_, but not _boring_. A little bit of detail but, not over done. Like these over here." He hurried over to a section with flush mount ceiling fixtures. "These are simple, not over done, but have a little bit of decorative detail to make them look _nice_."

House followed. He looked up at the lights and started to laugh. "They all look like tits."

"What?" Wilson looked up and tilted his head to try and see what he was seeing. "They don't look like tits. They're lights. How do they look like tits?"

House leaned on his cane, getting a kick out of this. He pointed to the dark screw fixture in the center of a rounded glass shade. "_That_ looks like a nipple in a big white boob."

Still with his hands on his hips, Wilson flicked his eyes at him. "_You_ are a perv."

"Oh come on, you look at cancer boobs all day, tell me you don't see an areola and a nipple." He gestured with his hand to the shape, almost caressing it like it was a real voluptuous breast.

Wilson closed his eyes and shook his head. "Fine. It does kind of look like a breast," he admitted. He stood for a second examining them and then pointed his finger in the air. "But, I think something like this might work."

In the meantime, House ambled over to a different style and considered it before turning to Wilson. "You could go with one of these. It hangs down a little bit, and still has that upturned glass shade like the 'tit' light, but less like a tit, more like a light."

Wilson came over considering his selection. He pushed his lip out in thought and waggled his head back and forth. "It's not bad."

"Now you just have to pick a color," he offered.

Wilson ran his hand over his mouth taking in the three choices of color. "Burnished Copper, Antique Pewter and Gold."

"Burnished Copper's too dark. Antique Pewter's not offensive and the Gold is just too fucking shiny," House stated.

Wilson's hand worked its way to the back of his head and he stood in deep contemplation. Becoming bored, House shifted his weight off of his leg and popped two Vicodin while he was waiting for the deliberation to run its course. The angry ache was waking up again and preparing to rear its ugly head. He needed to take the edge off before it grew to tantrum inspiring proportions.

One of the rotund, hairy sales people in a faded orange apron wandered close by them and House decided he needed to hurry this along. He shifted his hips, cocking it to the left like he'd seen the Yeasty Cheerleader do a hundred times a day and put on a lisp that would have made him a staple in San Francisco. "_Jesus Christ_, Jimmy, would you just pick a color, _lover_? Or I'll just have to make you get the boob light and we _know_ how you can't stand to look at anything that looks like a breast!"

Wilson rolled his eyes at him and then, to House's surprise, waved his hand limply at him and bat his eyelashes in a full blown pout. "That's just great! You are such a _tremendous_ help. How can I think with you always badgering and rushing me? _Honestly_, I try and try to make a lovely home for us and you constantly have to _push, push, push_! You're such a bitch." The worker grimaced, muttering something under his breath and continued down to the opposite end of the aisle leaving them alone.

House pointed the tip of his cane at Wilson. "Don't ever do that again. That was _way_ too convincing."

"You can dish it out, but you can't take it?"

"Just pick a damn color."

"I'm thinking Antique Pewter," Wilson announced picking up the box from the shelf and placing it in the cart.

"Excellent, we're outta here." House started down the row.

"Hold on a minute, I want to look in the switches aisle. There's an over head light in the nursery and I want to put it on a dimmer switch," he said wheeling the cart in the other direction.

House dropped his chin to his chest. _Damn_. He thought he was going to get double-shot mochachino sometime this millennium. _Now they had to look at switches? What the hell?_ "She's not even five months pregnant and you're doing the nursery?" He limped after him turning down the next aisle to the electrical accessories.

Wilson looked at him with a confused expression on his face. "You guys haven't started a nursery yet?"

House shook his head. "Nope."

"Why not?"

"It's too early," he replied.

"What _are_ you going to do with the baby once it's born?" he inquired curiously. "There's not a whole lot of room for the two of you in that place, let alone a baby."

"I know." House shrugged. "I mentioned to her about maybe buying a house."

"And?"

"And she kind of blew it off."

Wilson looked perplexed. "She doesn't want to buy a house?"

"No. She said something about how much she knew I liked the apartment and that we didn't have to rush to get anything done right away." And then she got him thinking about extra kids, a dog and yard with a white picket fence. And frankly that freaked him out a bit. So they hadn't talked about it again.

"Well, I suppose you don't but, it's not something I would wait too long on," he suggested searching through the various types of dimmers. "Because once the baby's here, it will be more difficult to move right away."

"Yeah, I kind of figured," he murmured. "I can't even get her to slow down at work. How am I supposed to get her to want to move?"

"She's not budging, huh?"

"Nah, we fought about it again yesterday, in front of my mother," he told him.

"Maybe you just need to let it go," he suggested.

"Yeah, I'm good at that," he grunted sarcastically. "Do you know me at all?"

"Yeah, I do. And you're going to push this until it breaks. Let it go, House. It's for the best."

_Let it go. Yeah, like it was that easy_. He didn't want to let it go. That was the problem.

"You know, I could just go and buy a house," he mused, his mind jumping back to their living situation.

Wilson scoffed as he looked at the face plates that went with the extra wide dimmers. "Yeah. Now there's a plan. Buy a woman a house that she hasn't seen and then expect her to live in it. Good thinking."

House frowned. _He had a point_. "Yeah. Probably not the smartest idea."

"Ya think?" He dropped his dimmer switch into the cart along with three others. Apparently, he had decided to dim the whole house while he was at it.

"I assume you've officially moved in to Transylvania?"

"My coffin arrives next week." Wilson deadpanned and pushed the cart forward toward the happy-colored children's switch plates. "We're going to rent out Amber's place."

House regarded him for a moment. _Interesting_. "Don't you think that's a little hypocritical, earning money off your dead girlfriend's condo?"

"Her parents signed the lease over to me," he stated. "They said it was mine to do with whatever I pleased." He was quiet for a long moment. For as happy as he was now with Cuddy, the wound over Amber was still fresh and deep. He was moving on but there were still so many things they never talked about. "They didn't want to deal with any of her stuff. I was the one to clean it all out. This place is as much mine as it was hers. Besides, we're going to put whatever we make off of it into a college fund for the baby."

House huffed. _Oh God, that was another thing he had to think about. College?_ This kid wasn't even born yet and there was so much to do.

Avoiding any more serious topics, he looked at the brightly colored face plates in front of him. Some had balloons and butterflies, teddy bears and zoo animals. Some were baby themed with blocks and pastel colors. They were… dare he say… _cute_. He fingered one with the teddy bears on it thinking it might be nice and then something caught his eye. He noticed a red and white stripped Phillies themed one off to the side. _She would die if she saw this_…

"Get it," Wilson said.

He shrugged and put it back. "Nah. What if it's a little girl?"

"You're wife's a girl and she loves the Phillies." Wilson chuckled at him. "Get it. She'll love it."

HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

Cate made some cinnamon spiced tea and brought a cup out for Blythe along with a couple of fudge striped cookies. She had just finished preparing a hearty beef stew to simmer on the stove for next few hours and was coming back to join Blythe on the sofa again. They had spent the better part of the day reading the Sunday paper and watching old movies on TV. It was quiet and pleasant with House out of their hair for a while. He was getting antsy and irritable and she was glad Wilson had recruited him to play Mr. Fix-it for the afternoon.

Blythe's cell phone rang from in her purse. "Would you be a dear?"

"Of course." Setting down her tea cup, she rose from her seat and retrieved her bag from the credenza by the door. "You're a popular girl; it's been ringing all day."

Reaching into her bag, she plucked out her phone and pushed the button to silence the ringer. "Well, I've missed brunch with the girls from church and I was supposed to spend the afternoon with one of the book club girls. We were going to search for a ballroom dance class."

"You _are_ popular," Cate said with a laugh. "And busy."

"I fear once I sit, I'll never get up again," she admitted.

"I can understand that," Cate responded picking up her tea again. She ran her finger wistfully over the rim of the cup. "Once you stop it's difficult to get the momentum going again."

Blythe smiled at her placing her purse on the floor beside her before taking up her tea again. "Is that why you don't want to give up your work?"

Cate looked up at her and smiled wryly. "Is it that obvious?"

Blythe chuckled a little. "Well, the full blown argument you two had last night might have tipped me off."

Cate grimaced. "I'm so sorry you had to hear that." They had an explosive blow-out late yesterday afternoon because she had wanted to go out and clean the snow off the cars. He, of course, had objections to her over-taxing herself unnecessarily. He had said he had little minions from down the street that rooked him out of good money every year to do that for him. She of course, had said that was a waste when she was more than capable of doing it herself. Well, that devolved into a huge quarrel that had sent her into the bathroom, crying.

"Please, I raised him from a tiny baby. If you think I don't know how arrogant and hot-tempered he can be, then you're fooling yourself. It's no secret to me." Blythe sipped her tea delicately and regarded her for a moment. "He's obstinate, pigheaded and inflexible when he wants his way but if you provide a logical argument then he can't help but consider it as a potential solution."

"Do you think that I'm being stubborn?" she inquired. "Am I being foolish?"

"Sweetheart, neither one of you are wrong and that is the problem."

"How so?"

"He just wants you and the baby to be safe and he thinks that by keeping you from overburdening yourself with extra chores and work then he can do that. The trouble is he knows that he can't take on those responsibilities himself. He can only do so much. It's always been an issue, since the infarction, that he doesn't like to face but now it glares at him strongly and he's never been good at being incompetent, not even when he was capable of everything. Not to say that that is the case, but in his mind that's how he sees it."

Cate frowned and took a bite out of her cookie. "I just want him to understand how I feel. I've never been okay with being treated like a fragile porcelain doll. I'm not going to break."

"I know. He knows that too, logically," she noted.

"It just seems that since I was dehydrated, he's been overly protective and it's annoying," Cate admitted with a frustrated sigh. She softened her face and pouted. "I love that he's opened himself up and that he cares so deeply. That is wonderful and I'm so blessed."

"But you don't want to be told what to do like a child, I know," Blythe interjected gently.

"Exactly," Cate exclaimed. "He makes me feel like I can't make the decision for myself."

"Can I ask you a question, dear?" Blythe proposed.

Cate brought her eyebrows together wondering what she would ask. "Sure."

"Why exactly don't you want to cut back on your hours at the hospital?"

Cate considered how to answer for a moment. She had been asking herself this very same question for quite a while since she had agreed to cut back and then begged off. She wondered why she was so entrenched in the idea of not cutting back, in sticking it out. She wondered why she was fighting so fiercely to keep the status quo and truth be told she couldn't really come up with a legitimate answer other than she didn't want to be told what to do. She wanted it to be her decision. She wanted to make the choice. But, there really was more to it than that.

"I love the excitement of working in the ER. I love being on the floor with the patients. I like being in the thick of things and I'm good at what I do," she looked at Blythe and frowned. "_I'm afraid that if I sit, I'll never get up again._"

Blythe smiled warmly at her and nodded her head wisely. "I would imagine a lot of women who have dedicated themselves to their careers feel that way."

"I've spent so much time in one mode, it's hard to break free from it and change," Cate said.

"Having a child is like no other experience in the world," she told her, her eyes reflective, remembering back to the times when Greg was young and innocent. "It is the hardest, most difficult and most beautiful thing you will ever do. It's about sacrifice. When you hold that darling little baby for the first time, you will be terrified out of your gourd but you will know deep in your heart that you will do anything for that child. Even if it means giving up everything that you ever dreamed because it's the right thing to do."

Cate hugged the pillow to her chest with a feeling of knowing that there was something she had forsaken for the love of her family. "What did you give up?"

Blythe smiled slowly. "It was a long time ago. Almost another world." She looked down at her hands and then back up at Cate. "I gave up a life with a man I cared for passionately to raise my child with a man who was steady, disciplined and reliable because I knew he would provide for us and take care of us."

Cate blinked, surprised at Blythe's candor. "Did you ever regret making that choice?" she asked her carefully. A part of her was unsure whether she wanted to really know the answer.

Blythe's lips pursed in contemplation and then relaxed into a wry smile. "I loved John with all of my heart. There were times when I wondered… in the beginning. But then, I saw Paul once when we were living in California. He had been married and divorced twice and onto his next. He was miserable." She shook her head and looked at her wedding ring that she still wore on her finger. "John loved me. John loved Greg, they had their differences, but I wouldn't have changed it for the world."

"So you made the right choice," Cate reiterated.

"I did." Blythe clasped her fingers on Cate's hand and gave her a gentle squeeze. "You will too. The choices we make are always right for the moment that we make them because we need what they can give us at that time. It's the journey that is the important part. We may deviate from our intended path, but it doesn't mean we can't arrive at the same place. We just take a different route to get there."

Cate smiled at her. She was a wise woman. She had to be to raise such a brilliant son. "Thank you."

Cate felt a peace come over her. She had missed her mother terribly after she died. Even though she had her father and loved him deeply, she felt alone. Since she had come to know Blythe, the relationship she was building with her fulfilled that ache. It gave her the clarity that she needed. Her simple comfort and shrewd intuition helped to ground her and made her feel at ease.

Things were going to be better.

HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

_A/N: Just popping in to say hello to all and thank you for those who are reading (and reviewing!!) and adding alerts. It's so great to know how much the rambling of my mind is entertaining to others. I'm still in love with this story and have WAY more stuff get out. Special props go out to my online brainstorming companions _Kwaish_ and _Spot and Punk_. You guys help me so much!! And BTW, to all of those who review, you're thoughts, opinions and "complaints" actually give me some serious incentive to propel this story forward. So many plot points have been sparked because of the things you guys say. I appreciate it all! Hugs and kisses!_


	25. Chapter 25: Flutters and Tears

Sessions II: Nine Months

Chapter 25: Flutters and Tears

House had returned home from the Wilsons' much later than he wanted. The semi-flushmount boob light was a bitch and a half to get up _flush_ to the ceiling. _Flush mount his ass_. How was it that the Ancient Egyptians could build colossal pyramids out of five ton rock so precise that a playing card couldn't be slipped in between them but a stupid light fixture made in China couldn't sit flat against the ceiling? It took an hour and a half to get it right when it should have only taken twenty minutes. Now if the fixture were made in Japan, maybe then it would have been right.

Another two hours later, the three dimmer switches were in as well, though he figured that probably would have gone much easier without the three beers they drank. One beer for each switch ratio was not the wisest when working with electricity. Nevertheless, they had managed to survive and lights could now be dimmed.

Tired and hungry, he entered the apartment to the incredible smell of Cate's beef stew. That was one of his favorites. His stomach growled on cue and he once again thanked the Powers That Be that sent her to him. She was absolute heaven on earth.

He limped heavily over to the sofa and slumped down into his empty spot. "Where's my mother?"

Cate came out of the kitchen carrying a bowl with a spoon and a beer. "I drove her home around 5:00."

He accepted the beer and took a long pull from it before placing it on the side table in exchange for the bowl of stew. "She's feeling better?"

"Yes. Her dizziness is pretty much gone and she wanted to shower and change her clothes," Cate explained sitting down next to him. "She wanted to be home. And I figured you needed her there."

He nodded and took a bite of the delicious tender beef. "Did you eat?"

"I ate some before," she said settling in with her blanket. "How's the light?"

"It's a light," he said.

Cate shrugged sensing that he didn't really feel like talking. Lying back on the sofa, she flipped through the channels with the remote searching for something that sparked her interest. She settled on _Dirty Jobs_. He inwardly groaned because he knew she really only liked the show because she thought Mike Rowe was 'cute'. The mere knowledge of that kind of ruined it for him because he liked it for the really gross poo and slime related stuff.

He finished eating his dinner and then took his bowl to the kitchen. He went to change into his pajamas and returned to join her on the sofa. Sitting down he took her foot and placed it in his lap tucking the blanket around her toes. He looked at the TV screen and cast his eyes at her. "What is this?"

"A movie," she replied benignly pushing the remote up and under the throw pillow under her head.

"That's Barbara Streisand," he stated.

"Uh huh," she murmured intentionally not looking at him.

"You've got to be kidding me," he complained. "I am not watching _The Way We Were_."

"Shut up, it's one of my favorite movies," she pouted.

"I love you but I don't love you that much."

"Yes, you do."

"No. I don't."

He leaned over and stretched his arm searching for the remote hidden under her pillow. She giggled, grabbing it and tried to raise it higher so it was out of reach. He stretched further, leaning on her but she dodged him.

Suddenly she gasped. He pulled back immediately, his hands now on her protectively, afraid that he had hurt her or the baby.

"Oh my god!"

"What's wrong?"

Swallowing, she brought her hand to her mouth and tears welled in her eyes.

"Cate! _What_ is wrong?"

"Shh." She lay very still and placed her hand over her belly. She closed her eyes and a sweet smile stole over her lips. Opening her eyes to him, she let out a laugh of relief. "It's moving!"

House blinked a few times and immediately sat up when the reality of what she had just said hit him like a ton of bricks. His baby was moving. "Are you sure?"

"I think so," she whispered. "It feels like a flutter."

House nodded unable to really speak. He surprised himself by becoming a little choked up.

Gently, she took his hand and placed it on her belly. "It's right here."

He sighed and let her rest his hand on her stomach. It was sweet that she wanted him to feel it too, but he knew there was no way he'd be able to detect any of the movements right now. The baby was still too small. He wouldn't be able to feel anything for another four weeks or so. "What's it feel like?"

"It's kind of weird," she laughed self-consciously. She grew quiet again trying to discern what it was doing inside. Smiling she let out a little chuckle. "You know when you have a lot of gas and you can feel it moving around in your intestines?"

He raised an eyebrow at her. "Every day of my life."

"Ha, that goes without saying." She rolled her eyes at him and then laughed, keeping his hand pressed to her abdomen. "It sort of feels like that."

"Tiny baby movements feel like rolling gas, interesting," he considered this for a moment. It must be a really strange feeling to know that someone else was moving around inside of you. He supposed that was why women did the incubating and not men; bizarre little things like that didn't actually occur to them.

He rested his head against her belly and closed his eyes imagining what the baby looked like as it moved around inside. He remembered from his textbooks and videos that babies this far along in term were still somewhat transparent and had spindly little legs and arms covered in visible veins. Not the stuff that adorable memories were made of but still pretty cool in his book, especially because it was his little mutant babe swimming around in there. He kissed the side of her stomach and she brought her hand to the back of his head. He lay there contently for a while. Before he knew it he was sucked in as he watched Barbara Streisand yammer away at Robert Redford on the flat screen across the room. _God, he was such a sucker. The things he would do for her._

Two hours passed in the blink of an eye. The movie ended and he quickly got up from the couch and hobbled into the kitchen. He blinked his eyes and sniffed as he searched the fridge for something to snack on.

"Are you crying?" she called to him in disbelief.

"No," he snorted indignantly. _Fuck_. He couldn't believe he let her watch that whole movie. _And he wasn't crying_. His eyes were just tired.

"You are!" she announced in amazement. He heard her get off the sofa and follow him into the kitchen. _Fuck_. He hoped she wasn't going to turn the light on. Finding a chocolate pudding cup, he pulled that out only to turn around to find her smack dab in front of him. He backed up against the refrigerator door. She stepped close to him and wound her arms around his neck looking up slyly into his face. She ran her hand over his bangs the way Katie did to Hubble, neatening his unruly hair. Rolling his eyes he looked at the ceiling shaking his head. She was teasing him, the smartass. "You know, it's sexy when men can get in touch with their emotional side."

"I wasn't crying," he persisted. "I'm just in here to get a snack."

She bit her lip saucily and reached her thumb up to delicately wipe at the corner of his eye. "Okay. If you say so." He flicked his head away from her touch and stepped out of her embrace. _She was blowing this whole thing way out of proportion._

Pulling a spoon out of the drawer, he leaned against the edge of the counter and opened the foil on the cup. Taking a full bite, in the dark, he watched her smile at him in the moonlight. "Don't you ever tell Wilson I watched that movie with you."

She let out a laugh. "Uh oh, do I have blackmail material?"

"It'd be unwise to use it against me. You're not prepared to go head to head with me," he cautioned pointing his spoon at her.

She made a dismissive face. "You don't have anything on me."

"Oh there's plenty," he goaded with a snort causing her to narrow her eyebrows in concern.

She crossed her arms over her chest. "Like what?"

"You fart like a truck driver in your sleep."

Her mouth dropped open and she inhaled a sharp wheezing gasp of outrage. "I do not!"

"Uh, yeah, you do."

He finished his cup of pudding in another bite and placed it on the counter.

"You wouldn't…" She stared at him.

"Try me…"

She went to stalk out of the kitchen in perturbed annoyance but he grabbed her arm and pulled her back to him. She slammed gently against his chest and he trapped her there in the circle of his arms. "Are you done teasing me?"

She snaked her arms up in between them and touched her hand to his lips with a pout. "I promise to never tell Wilson you squirted tears at the end of _The Way We Were_."

He ground his teeth together in supreme frustration. "For the last time, I wasn't crying…"

Raking her hand against the short hair at the back of his head, she pulled him down to her mouth. The sweetness of her lips coaxed him into submission as she kissed him thoroughly, slowly running her tongue along the length of his mingling with the sweet taste of chocolate. Pulling her tighter against the length of him, she moaned back in her throat as he deepened the kiss. She was like butter melting at his searing touch. He ran his hand down her back and brought his lips to her throat to kiss her pulse hammering in her neck. She purred, her fingers running over his head pulling at his hair. He loved how she would come apart at the seams when he touched her like that.

Guiding her back, he gently urged her out of the kitchen and down the hall to their bedroom. He stripped her of her clothes as she helped him out if his all the while never breaking contact with their lips. Their hands roamed and caressed; each taking their time to delight in the sensation of their hands on the others skin. Pressing her back against the cool sheets, he trailed his fingers over all of her sensitive spots that he had lovingly memorized so thoroughly. With every stroke, she responded to him like a melody played out on ivory. He made love to her slowly savoring every second as he looked down into her eyes. He knew this would be one of the last times they would be able to join like this for a while as their baby began to take up the space between them.

Riding out the pulse of their release, he laid his head against her forehead and kissed her sweetly. As their breathing came back to normal, he rolled them over to pull her against his chest tugging the blanket on top of them so she wouldn't be cold. He lay their listening to their breath in the dim light of the room. It was so nice to just be. No expectations. No talking. No professions of undying love. They had already done that. It was just him and her in their quiet acceptance of one another. Just being.

He knew this time, right here, right now, was not long for the haul. In a little while, there would be a baby that demanded their attentions and moments like these would be few and far between. The quiet serenity of their lives would be replaced with crying and feedings and changing of diapers. Oddly, he didn't mind that his life would be over as he knew it. His life had changed so much over the past six months that he barely recognized it anymore. This just seemed like a natural progression. He didn't long for those days. In fact, he was glad they were gone. It seemed like a lifetime ago that he was a lonely angry misanthrope with no hope or plans for the future. He never wanted to be that guy again. He never wanted to go back. He supposed that was the point of the end of the movie. _There was no going back_. Things changed. And he was okay with that.

House stroked his fingers down her bare shoulder tickling the smoothness of her skin. "I want to buy a house."

She lifted her head up from his chest. "Are you sure?"

"Yes."

She pushed herself up to lean on her elbow so she could see his face more clearly. "Why?"

"Because it's time," he stated. She looked at him with her velvet eyes and he melted. Running his hand over her hair and pushing it back over her shoulder, he said, "I want to decorate a nursery for the baby like Wilson and Cuddy are."

She smiled at him lovingly. "We can do that here if you want. We have the spare room."

He shook his head. "No. New place, new house, new everything. I want a fresh start." He breathed in a sigh. "This place holds a lot of bad memories."

She touched her hand to his brow like she had in the kitchen only this time she wasn't mocking him. "Okay. We can do that."

He pulled back further into the pillow and looked into her eyes speculatively "You mean it? Are you sure you aren't just saying that and then going to change your mind a week later?"

She fixed him with a pointed stare. "I mean it. I don't care where we live as long as I'm with you."

He ran his knuckles softly against her jaw. "I got you something today."

She quirked a smile at him. "At Home Depot?"

Nodding, he nudged her off of him so he could get out of bed. Pulling on his pajama bottoms, he limped out into the living room to retrieve the plastic bag from the pocket of his jacket. He came back and sat on the edge of the bed letting his leg dangle off the side to stretch. He handed her the crumpled parcel and waited for her to open it.

She looked at him oddly before untwisting the bag and pulling out the faceplate. Running her finger over the Phillies logo, her face broke into a smile and she bit the edge of her lip with her teeth. "You brought something for the baby."

He scratched at the back of his head awkwardly. "I figured we could put it in the baby's room." He pointed at it and then dropped his hand. "Even if it's a girl."

Cate smiled brightly at him and leaned over taking his face in her hands. "It's perfect." Bringing her lips to his, she kissed him. "We'll find a perfect house to go around it."


	26. Chapter 26: It's a

Sessions II: Nine Months

Chapter 26: It's a…

House slid his eyes at Cate who sat stock still next to him in the chairs outside Sheldon's office. Her tension practically engulfed him and he didn't know what to do to calm her down. They were here for the amniocentesis and she was petrified. She didn't say it, but by her tight body language she didn't have to. Even the Russian guy at the gas station who barely spoke English could tell that she wasn't quite herself this morning.

He rolled his head to the side and looked at her. Her lips were taut and her eyes were focused on nothing in particular in front of her. "You know this is a routine procedure."

"I know."

"They do it every day."

"I know."

"It's 99% accurate."

She swallowed. "Uh huh."

"You know you're not at risk for anything, right?"

She closed her eyes. "I know."

"Then why are you freaking out?"

She snapped her eyes to him. "I have an irrational fear, ok?"

"Your word not mine," he said. He'd never used that word in her presence again since the day of their very first fight. _Come to think of it, that was quite impressive_…

She rolled her eyes at him. "Yes. It's my own self-diagnosis of irrational, paranoia and phobia of needles and all things doctor related upon my body."

He shifted to slouch a little more in the seat. His leg was complaining admirably today as if he'd been ignoring it and it just needed to make its presence known lest he'd forgotten. "So I guess playing doctor is out then, huh?" he joked, palming two Vicodin into his mouth.

"With this belly, I think all sorts of dress up is out for a while," she muttered smoothing her shirt over her rounded stomach.

He raised his eyebrows intrigued by that statement. "So that means after… we can play dress up? I personally like the little school girl look…"

She sneered at him. "You would."

"Drs. House, we're ready for you," the nurse called cheerfully from the door to the inner office.

He rose slowly from the chair and held his hand out to her. "Come on. Get it over with and be done with it."

She sighed heavily and placed her hand in his. He could feel her trembling already and she wasn't even on the table yet. _This was not going to be fun_.

The nurse brought her back to be weighed and then placed them in the procedure room where the amnio would take place. "You don't have to change you can just lie on the table and Dr. S will be in shortly." House groaned inwardly. _Dr. S_… he still hated that. It was so … _touchy feely_. Leaning against the wall, he watched her hoist her rotund self onto the exam table. She looked at him with her big chocolate brown eyes and his heart broke. _So this is what it was like to care about a scared patient. How did Cameron stand it?_ Racking his brain, he tried to think of something she would say in a situation like this. Something nice. _Something comforting_.

"The needle's really not that big," he said.

She whimpered and looked away from him. _Oh god_, she was going to cry. _Oops_… _Wrong choice_.

"It's ok. You're going to be fine," he tried, hobbling over to her. He ran his hand down the back of her head and tucked her against his chest. He knew what to do to comfort her; he was just an idiot. "I'm right here. It will be over before you know it."

She nodded against his shirt and held onto him for dear life.

The door opened and Sheldon entered in his usual scrubs and lab coat ensemble with a nurse in pink teddy bear decorated scrub top. _Maternity people, always so damn cheery_.

"How are we doing today Cate?" the doc asked jovially as he checked her chart for her weight. _We_… the guy always spoke in the plural.

"_She_ is extremely nervous," he growled. "Tell her there's nothing to worry about."

Sheldon smirked at them and began taking out the tools necessary for the procedure. "As much as I hate to agree with your husband, he's right. There's nothing to worry about."

Cate shook her head and scooched back on the exam table. "I know. I'm just…"

"Terrified. I know, believe me, I do at least two of these a week," he told her. "I haven't lost a patient yet."

Cate let out a strangled little cry as she tried to laugh but failed miserably.

"Oh that's comforting," House groused. "Gold star for you, Dr. Feelgood."

Sheldon laughed. "Lie back on the table and let me see that belly." He prepped the transducer probe for the ultrasound as she lifted the hem of her shirt and pulled down the elastic panel of her pants to expose the skin of her stomach. "This is a routine procedure. As we discussed earlier, there's only a small chance of miscarriage. 1 in 400."

"That doesn't make me feel any better about you shoving a big needle into my stomach near my baby," she said.

Sheldon chuckled and squirted some jelly onto her skin before placing the probe over her. The heartbeat came out immediately; strong and solid at 150 beats a minute. "Woo, little stinker's kicking up a storm. It's doing a work out."

He moved the probe around and they could see the skeletal structure: spine, ribcage, femur, tibia, and all of the phalanges. House shook his head. He'd done this a hundred times before but it always floored him when he looked at his own kid in there. It had to be the damned coolest thing on the planet. "See if you can tell what it is," he blurted out surprising himself.

"You want to know?" Sheldon asked looking at both to be sure.

House looked at Cate. She pursed her lips together looking uncertain. "I don't know…"

"You know I can't live without knowing," he urged her. There was no way he was going to wait another four months to find out.

She smiled briefly at him and nodded. "Ok."

Sheldon poked and prodded for what seemed like an eternity to get the baby to turn in the right way. "Gee, shocker, the little bugger is uncooperative. Hmm, wonder who that comes from?"

House rolled his eyes and kept his focus on the monitor ignoring the comment. And then it passed in the blink of an eye. Coming into focus, he saw it again. "There," he pointed at the screen.

Sheldon missed it.

"You saw it?" Cate asked, her voice taking on an excited tone for the first time today.

"Give me the probe," he all but grabbed it out of Sheldon's hand as the other doctor held his hands up stepping out of his way.

He ran the probe over her belly, jiggling it to get the baby to flip over again. _Ha!_ There it was, he saw it. He let out a nervous laugh and swallowed. "It's a boy."

"What? Really?" she sat up on her elbows a little to see the screen better.

Zooming in, he focused on the little mass of gray in the shape of a peanut. "Penis and testicles hanging right out there."

"Oh my god, it's a boy," Cate exclaimed with a happy little cry.

He looked at the screen and his heart swelled in his chest squeezing out all of the breath in his lungs. "Whoa, a boy," he said quietly as the realization hit him like a twelve ton pile of bricks. He wasn't prepared for that. _No, he wasn't prepared for a boy at all_.

Shaking his head, he brought his attention back to Sheldon who had just said something he didn't hear. "What?"

"I said do you want to hold the transducer while I take the sample?"

"Oh, yeah…" he snapped to and pushed it to reveal an area of black space where the baby was not moving. Where his son was not moving. His son. _That was freaky_…

Cate clasped his free hand almost crushing the metacarpal bones in sheer fear as Sheldon approached her with the needle.

"Now you're going to feel a pinch and then a slight pulling sensation," he informed her swabbing the area with alcohol.

"Look at you husband," the nurse instructed gently, standing behind her as she placed her hands gently on her shoulders to calm her and hold her still if need be. "Don't watch the doctor."

House watched the screen and kept an eye on the empty black area. He saw the need come in and heard her whimper as Sheldon extracted a small amount of fluid from the sac. He removed the needle immediately and was done. _One, two, three, just like that…_

"Stay flat for a minute or two and just breathe," Sheldon ordered gently and handed the sample to the nurse for processing. He made notes in the chart as he spoke. "After an amniocentesis, it is best to go home and relax for the remainder of the day. You should not exercise or perform any strenuous activity; no lift anything over 20 pounds and you should avoid sex. We'll get the results back in a few days and I'll run a chromosome test to confirm the sex."

She nodded quietly as the nurse cleaned her belly and replaced her clothing.

House stood off to the side silently as he waited for them to finish. He was numb and he didn't really know what to think. A boy? _A boy_. The door shut and he let out a pent up breath between his lips. He didn't know how he felt about this. He didn't know why, but he had assumed it was going to be a girl. This one he didn't see coming. It was stupid, he knew. It was fifty-fifty odds. _But, damn… he was blindsided_.

"Are you ok," he heard her asked him in a small voice from the table.

He blinked. "I don't know."

"Come here," she held her hand out to him.

Pushing himself off the edge of the counter, he came over to her and laced his fingers with hers. He looked into her eyes and ran his hand over her head. "It's done."

She smiled at him and pressed her cheek against he back of his hand. "I love you."

He smiled thinly, regrettably knowing that it didn't quite reach his eyes. "I know."

"It's going to be ok."

"What is?"

"You won't be like your father."

He looked away from her and closed his eyes on a sigh. She could read exactly what he was thinking. "If it were a girl…"

"Either way, you will not be like your dad," she insisted. "You are _not_ like him."

"How can you be sure?" he questioned her doubtfully.

"Because I know you," she boasted with conviction.

He scoffed and released her hand stepping back from the table and running his thumb over his brow at the headache settling deep in between his eyes. "You can't know that. You can't predict how I will be."

"Yes, I can," she said with confidence. "I know who you are. I know you would never do anything to hurt us…"

"But you don't know…" _She didn't know just how terrible it was._

Slowly, she eased herself up to sitting. "I know that I love you. I know that you are a good man. And I know that I won't let you become a monster."

He looked at her and his tongue flicked out to lick his dry lips. "You promise?"

"I promise."

_He almost believed her._

HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

House strode, well if he could actually stride, it would have been called that into the office. It was really more like a purposeful limp, but nevertheless, he raised his hand with the ultrasound picture and held it aloft like a trophy.

"It's a boy!"

The ducklings rustled around the table and chorused their cheers and congratulations as he made his away over to the white board. He contemplated hanging up the picture but then tossed it down onto the table for them to examine.

Kutner went to grab for the photo but Thirteen snatched it out of his reach. "Give me that. Me first." Taking the picture in her hands she looked for a moment. "Aww," she cooed peering at the image. "I see a little penis."

House made a face of outrage. "_Little_? The boy takes after his old dad. And there ain't nothing little about it," he postured holding his hands out about two feet apart to indicate actual size.

"Objects in mirror are larger than they appear," Taub commented dryly coming over to look at the picture.

"I know you're species is notoriously microscopically hung, so I take your ignorance in kind," he fired back, ambling over to pour himself a cup of coffee. "Now, Foreman on the other hand, we share the same DNA." He held his fist out for a solidarity bump.

Begrudgingly, Foreman half-rose out of his chair to return the gesture. "Yeah, like brothers from a different mother…" He sat back and rolled his eyes with a bored huff.

Still holding onto the picture like a blood related aunt, Thirteen beamed a smile at him. "You can see his little eyes."

"And his ribs and all thirty-three vertebrae," he announced proudly.

"That is so cool," Kutner said peering over Thirteen's shoulder. House watched the young man linger a little longer than he should have next to her hair, basking in the scent that was distinctly Thirteen. House raised an eyebrow at him and he immediately stood up and blushed in his mocha tinted skin. He gave him an embarrassed smile for being caught acting like a creepy stalker. Fortunately for the lovesick fool, the object of his affection was completely oblivious to his general presence as she continued to look at the photograph.

Fingering the photo in amazement, she raved. "Babies are just so neat."

Foreman raised his eyebrow in a look of alarm. He reeled back and stared at his girlfriend with a sense of foreboding. _Uh oh, different opinions on the reproduction topic. Very interesting_.

"Neat?" the neurologist questioned.

Thirteen stared at him. "What, you don't think babies are remarkable? They're little tiny humans, miniature versions of ourselves."

"I think that babies are a lot of responsibility, not something that you go into without a lot of thought," he replied.

"Nah, who needs to think in the heat of passion," House tossed in. "Ride bareback, I say."

Neither one of them reacted. Instead, they locked eyes in an uncharacteristic fierce battle of wills.

Thirteen regarded Foreman with a humorless set of eyes. "Are you saying that you don't want children?"

He leaned against the back of his chair and tossed his pen onto the table. "No. I'm saying that you need to make sure it's the right time and the right decision to bring a child into this world."

Taub sat at the one end of the table casually observing the discussion as he crossed his trousered legs in front of him.

Kutner sat down next to Thirteen, a little closer than normal in a show of solidarity. "I think babies are neat too."

"Shut up…"

"Shut up…"

Both Thirteen and Foreman glared at him and he held his hands up in defense. "I was just saying…"

"Well, don't say. It's none of your business," Thirteen shot at him.

House watched him instantly deflate like a popped balloon. She had essentially just pierced his heart, _poor bastard_.

Thirteen turned back to Foreman and fixed him with an icy glare. "So you're saying that it's never going to be the right time or the right decision for me, because I have Huntington's? And why bring a child into this world if there's a fifty percent chance it's going to die eventually?"

Foreman scoffed at her, his face devoid of any emotion as usual. "That's not what I'm saying…"

"It sure sounds like it," Taub interjected finally.

Foreman shook his head and rolled his eyes. "All I'm saying is that creating another life is a big responsibility, Huntington's or not. You're bringing another life into this world and you better be damned sure that you're willing to make all of the sacrifices that go with it."

House sipped his coffee. He had a hundred different sarcastic retorts to shoot down Foreman, but he held his tongue. The man was right and that scared him. Not only was he agreeing with Foreman but the responsibility of raising a son was still weighing heavily on him. Three hours ago it was an anonymous baby. Now it was _his son_. This was something that was going to take some time to wrap his head around. He was shocked. He was scared. He didn't know how to reconcile that.

Grabbing the ultrasound photo off the table, he swiftly left the room, leaving them to stew in their ridiculous pseudo-intellectual debate. He had his own problems to deal with.

He rounded the corner and pushed the door open to Wilson's office.

"Ah thank God, I thought the 'Wilson's doing paperwork light wasn't working' and I'd have to call a repairman."

House ignored him and traipsed into the office folding his lanky frame into the chair in front of his desk. He tossed the photo onto his open folder and ran his hand over his forehead. His headache was still going fast and furiously. And now his leg was gnashing its teeth against the good muscle he still had left. He popped two more Vicodin vaguely aware that he'd taken two only an hour ago after he'd dropped Cate at home.

Wilson studied the picture for a while and then raised his eyes up in surprise. "It's a boy?"

"Come on, penis, testicles. If it's a girl, I'm definitely sending it back."

He put the photo down and smiled. "Mazel tov."

"No it is not 'good fortune'," House ground out.

Wilson drew his eyebrows together. "Why not?"

"I'm going to be a shitty father to a boy. Hell, I was going to be a shitty father to a girl but at least I was ok with that."

"House, come on. Don't you think you're being a little hard on yourself?"

"Nope." He shook his head.

Wilson sighed and leaned back in his chair lacing his fingers over his abdomen settling in for the long conversation. "What makes you feel this way?"

"Spoken like a true therapist. I can go to Cate for this, you know?"

Wilson shrugged. "You could. But you came here. So spill. What's so bad about having a boy?"

House ran his hand over the back of his head scratching furiously at the itch in the back of his brain. Unfortunately his skull was in the way. Dropping his hands down into his lap, he let out a sigh. "I don't want to be a shitty father and have my son hate me."

"So you think that because you had a bad relationship with your father, that you will automatically make the same mistakes with your son?"

He nodded. "Yeah. That's the gist of it." _That sounded about right_.

"House, that's illogical."

"What? How?" He rolled his eyes. "We are essentially the sum of our upbringing. We don't change, because people don't change."

Wilson laughed out loud. "Ha. That's bullshit and you know it."

"How is that bullshit?"

"Look at yourself. You of all people should know how much you've grown and changed over the past what, six months?" Wilson exclaimed. "You are completely different."

House scoffed. "Different? How? I'm still an asshole to everyone around me. Or so I'm told."

"Well, this is true," he admitted. "But, you're not an asshole to her. And she loves you, God only knows why. That baby is a part of her. Wouldn't it stand to reason that your non-dickish attitude that you display towards her would carry over to the product of your unnatural union?"

"Fuck you! You make it sound like I'm involved the Queen of the Damned, oh wait that's you."

"Yes, and our demon spawn will beat the crap out of your demon spawn," he retorted.

"Ha! I think not, ours will have like fifty IQ points on yours! He'll be witty and quick."

"See you're already taking pride in your son," he pointed out victoriously.

House rolled his eyes. "Yeah, yeah…" He leaned forward and rested his chin on the curve of his cane. He swallowed hard and looked at the speckled gray carpet below his sneakers. "I don't want to be violent."

"House… you are not like that." Wilson's tone was serious and full of the wisdom of knowing him better than anyone in the world.

"Aren't I?" he raised his eyes to him.

Wilson frowned at him. "House, you are not violent. You live in violent pain everyday, if anything you self-flagellate. The only person you've abused physically is yourself because for some reason you feel you're unworthy of living life and enjoying its perks like a regular human being; like you somehow don't deserve it. Now, I'm sure that comes from growing up with your dad and all that encompasses, but don't you think that alone would keep you from being like him. Knowing how you turned out, knowing how bitter and angry you became. Wouldn't that make you do it differently?"

House ran his stubble against the smoothness of the well-worn handle of his cane. He considered everything that Wilson was saying. _Did he believe him? Was he right? Was he capable of being that person, the person that Cate saw?_

"I don't know. Maybe."

"You can make a conscious choice to do it differently."

He worked his jaw and raised his eyebrows, not saying anything.

"You make conscious choices every day to do the right thing for your patients, to be kind a loving to your wife. You're completely capable to make this choice too. It's not born in you to be a violent abuser. And as you well know, he wasn't even your biological father so it's definitely not genetic."

Taking a deep cathartic breath, House stood. He dragged his thumb over his brow and then pointed at the picture. "Did you see the size of that package? The boy's hung like the old man."

Wilson snorted and shook his head, knowing full well the serious conversation had closed. "Like an anaconda."

House jerked his thumb proudly at his chest and picked up the image. "Who's got good genes? This guy. That's who."

Wilson nodded with a smirk tipping forward in his chair to return to his paperwork. "Goodbye, House."

House paused with his hand on the doorknob. He nodded once at Wilson. "Goodbye, Wilson." _And thanks_.

HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

_A/N: just a little note to explain why she had an amniocentesis. Here in the states it's standard practice to perform and amnio on women over thirty-five. Cate's thirty-nine, incase anyone doesn't remember that! She's not like those other spring chickens running around PPTH. BTW, Cuddy will have one too, because she's older than God! And we'll find out what Wuddy's having in the coming chapters. Happy reading!_


	27. Chapter 27: The 'Rents

Sessions II: Nine Months

Chapter 27: The 'Rents

Cate entered the quaint little restaurant on the main drag near Princeton University a little past six in the evening. She was late because one of her patients had a severe set back in their treatment and needed sedation.

Her father waved his big hand up in the air to grab her attention. He looked absolutely out of place at this trendy bistro. Coming over to him, she smiled leaning down to give him a quick kiss on the cheek before sitting down to catch her breath. She felt amazing the last few weeks since her amnio. She was truly in the splendor of the second trimester. There was a spring in her step. She was glowing. The sex was amazing, but then again it always was. Things were just _good_.

Removing her coat she looked around. "Dad this place is adorable."

He glanced around him and folded his large hands together in front of him on his elbows. She smiled as his frame dwarfed the little table. "It's cute."

"Cute," she repeated, nodding. Giving him a curious eye, she asked him, "How did you find this place. It doesn't look like someplace you'd even think twice about."

"Bah, it's nothing. I drove by it one day," he muttered offhandedly. "I figured it'd be something you like."

"Ok," she said dubiously.

He looked at her with his coal black eyes. "What? You don't think the old man can find a nice place to take his daughter for dinner?"

She softened her face and rested her hand on his arm. "It's lovely, Dad. Thank you."

He bristled a little and then relaxed into his tiny chair crossing his arms over his barrel chest as he leaned back. A waiter dressed in all black with a very long neatly tied apron came by and poured two sparkling waters in their glasses and informed them of the specials this evening. He promised his return shortly after they had time to look over the menu.

"Mmm, the chicken with gorgonzola and artichoke hearts sounds amazing," she said as she flipped open her menu to see what other kinds of delicious meals they had to offered.

"It sounds like something your mother used to make on special occasions," he reminisced as he scanned the menu through his reading glasses.

"Oh, I remember that," she said with a wrinkled nose. "I used to hate it because of the artichoke hearts."

"I guess your tastes have changed," he mentioned with a pointed eye over the edge of his menu.

She laughed, getting his full meaning. He was miffed about her comment about the restaurant. "I guess so. What are you thinking of getting?"

He pursed his lips and flicked his eyes around the page. She assumed he was looking for some kind of steak. "The salmon encrusted in pecans over spinach looks good."

Cate almost choked on her sparkling spring water. Her eyes boggled out of her head as she stared at the man who looked like her father, sounded like her father but _clearly_ was not her father. "You're looking at salmon?"

He shrugged. "Yeah." He snapped the menu shut and placed it on the table. "I'm going with the salmon."

Cate stared at him for a bit. She looked at his eyes. The whites were glassy but clear. His breathing was normal, deep and even. His skin pallor was pink and rosy. He looked…fine? "Are you feeling ok?"

"Yes, Catie-girl. I'm feeling ok," he said dryly.

"You ordered salmon," she reiterated.

"I did."

"You don't like salmon," she reminded him.

"I do, " he declared carefully. "I just never get it because it's not done well."

"You don't like salmon because it's good for your heart."

"No. Your mother used to be the only one to cook it right. I haven't had good salmon since she passed." He did the sign of the cross over his chest and kissed his fingers up to Heaven like he always did when he said that – _since she passed._

She narrowed her eyes at him speculatively. "Uh huh. I'm sure."

He sighed and took a sip of his water. "Enough about my dinner selection. Where's your unsociable husband?"

Cate shook her head and decided that his evasiveness, though odd, was not all that uncharacteristic. This, on the other hand, was totally him. She rolled her eyes. "Dad you know he doesn't do this," she said circling her finger between them.

He rolled his eyes back at her. "Doesn't mean he shouldn't suck it up and come anyway."

"Oh yeah, Dad, because Greg will just suck it to make you happy," she shot at him sarcastically.

"It's about respect, Catie," he retorted.

"He respects you which is exactly why he won't come have dinner with you," she explained.

"That makes no sense," he argued.

"It makes perfect sense," she said. "If he were here, he'd be in a God-awful mood, say something derogatory and/or disrespectful and insulting and thoroughly piss you off. This way, there's no problem."

He father shook his head disbelievingly, not agreeing with her.

"You know its true, Dad."

He grunted in dissatisfaction. The waiter reappeared to take their order. He placed a basket of freshly baked warm, crusty bread and a little dish of herb-infused olive oil for dipping on the table. He took their dinner orders and was away.

Cate unwrapped the black napkin from the bread and inhaled the delicious scent of the baked goodness. Taking out a piece, she broke off a chunk for her father and handed it to him while placing a piece on the dish for herself.

"How have you been feeling?" he asked her dunking his bread into the oil.

"I'm fine. The baby's fine."

He smiled then. "Getting bigger there, I see." He pointed his finger at the rounded top of her belly that stuck out over the edge of the table.

She looked down and placed her hand over the bump. "Yes, by the minute it seems."

"So have you two decided to find out what you're going to have?" he asked curiously.

Cate smiled deeply. This was the very reason she had wanted to come to dinner with him tonight. "Yes, we found out." Reaching into her purse she pulled out the ultra sound picture. House had highlighted the little penis and testicles in blue. She grinned at the memory of his fastidious insistence that it had to be in blue highlighter. He had searched high and low for the exact colored marker so she could show her father.

She handed the photo to him. He took his glasses out of his shirt pocket and put them back on his nose so he could see. He gazed at the picture for a while and then looked up at her perplexed. "What am I looking at here?"

Chuckling, she leaned forward and pointed at the blue patch. "Daddy, It's a boy."

He peered closer and then a slow smile came across his face. "It's a boy?" He began to chuckle and then a gleam came into his eye. "I'm going to have a grandson?"

Cate smiled unable to stop her own tears coming to her eyes. She couldn't help but cry when her dad became emotional. "Yeah, dad. Finally a boy for you to play with."

He smiled and wiped at his eyes looking at the picture again. He started to laugh at himself. "Oh that's what the blue spot is. I thought it was some kind of medical marking I just didn't get."

Cate laughed. "No. Greg did that for you so you could see."

He smiled warmly, chagrinned that he had made big deal about the 'respect' thing before. "That was nice…. Phew, a boy, huh? What are you going to name him?"

Cate shrugged. "We don't know yet. Greg's still coming to terms with it being a boy."

"He didn't want a boy?" he asked. "What kind of man doesn't want a son to carry on his name?"

"Dad, you keep expecting him to be just like everyone else," she said. "He's not."

He waved his hand disregarding her admonishment. "Why doesn't _he_ want a boy?"

"_He_ didn't have a good relationship with his dad," she said circumspectly. "He doesn't know how to have a healthy father/son relationship. It's difficult for him."

"So you make do with what you got. You figure it out. He's a brilliant man. I'm sure he can do that."

"I am too," she said. "But it's complicated for him. He just needs time."

Her father sighed considering this. "Well, I'm putting my bid in for Donald Joseph Milton-House."

Cate laughed. "Yeah, that'll be at the top of the list, Dad, right next to John House."

"What? It's a good strong name," he objected.

"It is," she agreed. "But somehow I'm thinking Greg isn't going to go for it."

"Well, keep it in the reserves, " he said. "Maybe even a middle name."

"Yes, Dad," she chuckled.

He father was quiet for a second and then out of the blue asked, "Does Blythe know yet?"

Cate peered at her father curiously. That was odd for him to mention her. "Umm, yeah… he told her a couple of weeks ago after we found out."

He nodded, his salt and pepper eyebrows drawing together in a frown. "She knew weeks ago?"

Cate stared at him confused as to his line of questioning. And then it dawned on her. He was upset that she hadn't told him sooner. "Oh, Dad. I didn't tell you earlier because I wanted to tell you in person. We just haven't been able to get together. I wanted to be able to show you the picture. So I could see you face."

He nodded in understanding, but she could see he was hurt. "No, Catie, it's ok. I get it."

"Dad, I'm sorry."

"Bah, don't worry your pretty little head," he said shifting forward taking her hand in his big warm one. "I'm as happy as a clam. I've got a boy to take to Phillies games with me. What more could a grandpa ask for?"

Their dinners arrived and they ate over casual conversation, catching up.

"We're going to start looking for a house, next week," she told him.

"Really? Where? Close to the hospital I assume," he said.

"Yeah, there are some really nice neighborhoods within ten minutes and all of the schools are really good."

"That's nice," he said. "It will be good to have a yard for the little tike to play in."

"Yes," she agreed. "I've never shopped for a house before so I'm a little apprehensive."

"Ah, it'll be fine," he told her. "The realtor's know what they're doing. Just be very specific about what you want."

"I suppose," she muttered. "We're going with Wilson's ex-wife as our realtor."

He shrugged at her not understanding the significance.

"House says she's the worst realtor in New Jersey."

He burst out laughing. "Then why the hell would you use her?"

"I don't know," she rolled her eyes incredulously. "I told you, the man is very complicated. Sometimes I can't even figure out how his twisted mind works."

He huffed. "Well, better you than me."

She sighed. "Yeah, somehow I'm not so sure."

HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

"Mom, the picture is straight," House argued standing back to look at his handy work.

"Don't you think it needs to go a little to the left just a bit," she chattered looking deeply concerned as she bit down on her thumbnail in contemplation.

He took another two and a half steps backward. "No. It's perfectly symmetrical. It's fine."

She hurried over to adjust it and he rolled his eyes begging for patience. "Leave it alone."

"Honey, I just want it to be perfect," she insisted tipping the corner an infinitesimal bit.

"It is perfect," he admonished. "Now leave it alone."

She came back to where he was standing to inspect from his perspective. "Maybe to the right."

"No!" He limped away from the wall in the living room taking the hammer with him so she couldn't 'adjust' it herself. She was driving him insane. _It was a frigging' painting of flowers for crying out loud, not the fucking Mona Lisa._

She stood in front of the painting for a second and then clapped her hands together in joy. "Ah, darling, it is perfect."

He rolled his eyes and placed the hammer back in the toolbox that she kept in the hall closet. _Finally_. Because, if she made him move it one more time he was going to put the hammer through the canvas and be done with the whole damned exercise in futility.

He came back into the living room after returning the tools and looked at the painting for real for the first time. It was a composition of little yellow flowers with starburst centers clumped haphazardly along a dark green background of lush foliage. He recognized the flowers and harrumphed in curiosity. They were St. John's Wort. _Intersting_.

"Mom, do you know what kind of flowers these are," he quizzed her.

Distractedly, she came into the room from getting him something to drink in the kitchen. "They're Biyou yanagi, sweetheart."

He accepted the iced tea from her and sipped at it, eyeing her speculatively. "Biyou yanagi is the Japanese word for St. John's Wort."

"Yes, you remember," she said smiling. "Remember how they used to grow all along the country side in Okinawa and you used to bring me bunches of them after your treks to God knows where?"

He nodded and continued to stare at the painting. _Very interesting_. "Yeah, I remember."

"They are my favorite flower," she said and turned away from him with a contented sigh as she went back into the kitchen.

Bemused by her somewhat girly demeanor, he sat down on her sofa and drank his iced tea. Why all of a sudden was she hanging a painting of this flower? She'd had paintings of other flowers hanging in various places throughout the many homes they'd lived in over the years. Roses, tulips, irises, but never Biyou yanagi. She'd all but forgotten about the flower since they'd left Japan when he was fourteen. It was odd. Why was it resurfacing now?

"So where'd this painting come from," he called to her.

She came back into the living room carrying a glass of iced tea for herself and sat down in the side chair. "I painted it."

"What?" Well, that was something he wasn't expecting. "You painted it?"

She chuckled at him. "Yes, sweetheart. I painted it."

"I had no idea you knew how to paint."

"I used to paint a lot as a girl and gave it up after I married your father because I had you and just didn't have the time with all of the responsibilities of a Marine Corps wife." She sipped her tea. "I signed up for a painting class during the week. This is my first painting I finished thus far."

He raised his eyebrows looking at it again. "It's good."

She clucked her tongue at him. "This old girl's still got some tricks up her sleeve."

He blinked his eyes. "No, I…" he stammered. "I didn't mean to say…"

"It's alright, darling," she eased his mind with a wave of the hand. "I'm working on a still-life now. I should be done with that one in a few weeks."

He nodded. "Well, at least you're keeping busy."

"Oh darling, I've been doing all sorts of different things," she told him. "I have a very busy social calendar."

"Seems like," he muttered. "Your friend 'Joan' take this class with you?" He eyed her over the rim of his glass as he sipped.

"Yes, actually she does," she said. "We go from ten to twelve and then have sushi for lunch afterward."

"Sushi," he questioned. "How very Japanese themed."

She shrugged delicately at him and placed her tea glass down on a coaster. Noticing he was empty, she rose to take his glass and refill it for him.

"Oh, I forgot to ask Cate the last time I talked with her about what color she wants the baby's blanket to be?" she mentioned from the kitchen.

"What blanket?" he asked a little perturbed that she'd completely manipulated the conversation away from his inquiry.

"I'm crocheting a blanket for my sweet baby grandson's crib," she replied and then went to retrieve her bag of knitting.

"Oh," he muttered. _Warning - Grandma mojo in full swing_.

Sitting next to him on the couch, she thrust three different balls of yarn into his lap. "I have these different blues and a yellow or this green," she said plucking out another two.

The first two rolled off his leg and he bent to scoop it up off the floor. "Does it matter?"

She frowned at him. "Gregory, of course it matters. This blue is an aqua; this one is more periwinkle; and this one it a true baby blue. But this one," she held up the one she called 'periwinkle', "doesn't go with the yellow."

He blinked at all of the yarn in his lap and tried to make heads or tails of it. "So get rid of it?"

"That's what I thought," she said decidedly placing it back in the bag. "But that leaves, these two. Which do you think?"

"I don't know, they all look like they go together," he said lamely, hoping she would take that as confirmation that he hadn't the slightest clue. His color coordination skills ended at blue, black and white. And beige, all three of those went with beige. It was simple, it was easy and he didn't care.

She sat considering the yarn in her hands holding them up to test the colors against the others. "I could put them all together. Or not…"

"I think you should ask Cate," he begged off.

She sighed and then raised her finger excitedly. "I know," she said suddenly as she had a thought, "I'm going to send you home with these samples." She began cutting little snip-its off the ends of the four colors of yarn. "That way, Cate can see them when she get home from dinner with Don and she can tell me which ones she'd like."

"You know she went to dinner with Big Don?"

She shook her head in mild irritation as she placed the strands into his hand. "Yes, dear. We spoke on the phone earlier." _Oh right, she and his wife were now BFFL's._

"Fine, I'll show them to her and have her call you immediately," he said with mock-gravity.

"Do not be a smartass, Gregory."

HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

"Did you know my mother's taking a painting class," he asked her as he brushed his teeth that night before bed. He had some ass-breath left over from whatever he had for dinner and knew her supersonic smell sensors were still working on overdrive. So to save himself from having to get up and out of bed, he'd head that train off at the pass.

"Yeah, she signed up weeks ago," Cate said climbing into bed. "I need to get one of those body pillows to support this belly of mine."

"Take the other one from my side," he spat into the sink. "You guys really talk everyday?"

"It's not every day," she said. "It's like every two or thee days."

He wiped his mouth and turned the light out holding onto his thigh as he limped over to the bed. "She painted a picture of this flower we used to see all the time in Japan."

Cate adjusted her blankets as she listened to him. "And obviously you think this is significant?"

He sat on the bed, palmed two Vicodin and lay back against his single pillow. _Wow, he was flat._ "We'll get you a body pillow tomorrow." He folded his pillow in half and tucked it back under his head. "Yeah, it's weird. It's her favorite flower."

"Yeah, a woman painting her favorite flower; that is weird." She snuggled in with his pillow between her legs. He glanced at her. As hot as that sounded like it should be, it just wasn't. She looked like she had the Stay-puff Marshmallow man between her legs.

"It's the flower my father sent to her when he was stationed in Okinawa."

"So, I'm sure he bought her flowers all the time," Cate said.

"Not him, my real father."

She raised an eyebrow at him. "How do you know that? Did she tell you?"

"No. It was in one of the letters."

"Oh _those_ letters that you conveniently burned right after reading and didn't let me see," she stated with a bit of a pissy edge. _God, she held onto shit a long time_…

"Yeah, those letters," he snarked.

"So she painted a flower that took her back to a time when she was happy," she sighed. "The woman is still grieving the loss of her husband of fifty years. I'm sure it doesn't mean anything."

He rolled his head to the side to look at her. "I think she's seeing my father."

"What?!" Cate snorted. "Your 'real' father? That's absurd, Greg. What makes you say that?"

"He was at my father's funeral, which means he's still around. He lives in Bethlehem, Pennsylvania, I know because I Googled him. She lied about why she was going to dinner…_on Valentine's Day_. And now she's painting flowers he gave her and that she used to keep in vases all over the house in Okinawa. It stands to reason."

"It stands to your twisted logic, is what is stands to," she disputed. "She is in a state of transition where for the first time she's alone with only herself to worry about. She's taking the time to get to know herself again and enjoy her life as a single entity. If she loved that flower, then she's probably painting it because she just _loves that flower_, nothing more. Don't go looking for answers where there's really no questions to begin with."

"But," he began but she cut him off with her hand to his lips.

"But nothing," she persisted. "Leave it alone."

He rolled his eyes. Why did people keep telling him that? Didn't they know he was incapable of doing such a thing? No, this was not over. His mother was keeping something from him. He felt it in his bones. He just knew it.


	28. Chapter 28: Selling Point

Sessions II: Nine Months

Chapter 28: Selling Point

Cate followed House and Bonnie, Wilson's ex-wife realtor, into the four-bedroom Contemporary. This was the third house Bonnie had shown them today and the seventh or eighth house she'd shown them that week. She wasn't sure because she had lost track after the fourth one that didn't have a whirlpool tub in the master bath. After realizing what wonders the hot tub did for his leg in Jamaica and with his ever increasing pain again, he refused to buy a house that didn't already have one.

Between her persnickety husband and the pesky gnat of a woman, Cate was becoming weary. She still wasn't sure why House had decided to go with the spindly looking woman as their realtor considering the fact that he had described her as the worst realtor in New Jersey. But, Cate figured it was because he knew her and felt oddly comfortable with her despite the fact that the woman hated him. So as with everything, Cate just went with it. _Comfortable House_ was better than _Disgruntled House_, especially when shopping for a house.

"Why are we looking at a Contemporary again?" Cate asked as they stepped beyond the entry foyer into the great room that visually opened up to encompass the entire back of the house.

Bonnie turned and smiled. "I thought that the space might give you the feeling you were looking for."

Cate raised her eyebrows at the woman. She did suck as a realtor. Because she couldn't listen. _What part of traditional woodworking, built in cabinetry and shelving, hardwood floors screamed out Contemporary?_ There was glass and stone and metal, all of it sleek and very modern. "I like the openness," she muttered vaguely and frowned as she watched House move around the expanse of space along the back wall of floor to ceiling windows that led to the patio. _What on Earth must he be thinking?_ Turning to the left, Cate eyed the giant staircase of floating steps that led to the second floor loft.

She let out a laugh not bothering to hide her disbelief any more. "Bonnie this is a two story house."

The thin woman waved her hand at her and sped over to a door off to the right of the living room. "Oh don't worry, the master suite is on the first level."

"And the rest of the bedrooms?"

"Upstairs," she said with big eyes as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"What? So he never goes upstairs?" Cate eyed House who merely shrugged. "How's he supposed to get the baby?" She moved closer to him and pinched his arm. "Say something will you please?" she ordered through her teeth. This woman had showed them house, after house that didn't fit any of their criteria and Cate was beginning to lose her patience. Wilson's ex-wife was wasting their time and hers.

Rolling his eyes, he huffed and limped closer to Bonnie. "Bonnie, this isn't going to work."

She held up her hand to shush him. "I know. You want traditional with open space. But this fireplace…"

He sighed looking back at Cate over his shoulder. "No. I mean this… this… us… you as our realtor isn't going to work."

Bonnie narrowed her buggy eyes at him and pointed her finger at his chest. "Don't you do this to me again, you bastard. Don't you back out now. I knew I shouldn't have listened to James." She turned on Cate. "Talk some sense into him. I won't let him screw me again. Just because you know James, doesn't mean I won't kill either of them for this."

Cate sighed. She began to move in between them in case the frail woman snapped and affixed her spiderlike arms around his head to scratch his eyes out.

He thrust his free hand out, palm up in a gesture of peace. "You haven't shown us anything that we've asked for. We were very specific about what we wanted."

Bonnie sighed. "I know. I know. I have six more houses to show you."

"Six?" Cate screeched and then closed her mouth shut on a snap. She could barely stand up straight in the one they were in and she wanted to show her six more? Cate plopped herself down on the very hard, very rectangular sofa.

House must have interpreted the frustration in her voice, he had to be a moron not to, and turned to Bonnie. "You're going to have to do better than that."

"Better than six?" she looked at him confused.

"How many of those six have stairs?"

"Two. No, three." She replied.

"That leaves three. How many without the stairs have hardwood floors?"

"Two."

"And built in cabinetry?"

"Two. One with the floors, the other without."

"And a hot tub?"

"Yep, yep and yep," she nodded succinctly.

"See, now we're getting somewhere," he said turning his gaze to Cate. He gave her an optimistic smile and she rolled her eyes back at him.

"I will look at only those three," she insisted. "_Only those three_."

Clutching her clipboard to her chest, Bonnie nodded. "Fine." Moving toward the door, her demeanor changed to one of excitement again. "The first one is a three bedroom ranch with the most darling little kitchen…"

Cate rose from the sofa and clutched his arm to her as they walked out the door. "These are the last three houses this woman is showing us. If they suck, I'm firing her. And I don't care if she kills Wilson."

He nodded and simply placed his knuckles on the small of her back kneading the soreness from her tired muscles. She sighed and let some of the tension drain from her. He pressed his lips her temple when they reached Bonnie's car. "Three more," he encouraged and gave her a sweet little kiss to bolster her resolve.

Cate gave him a thin smile trying to be a trooper for him. For some inexplicable reason, he was having fun.

They drove a short distance to another house in the neighborhood. Cate liked the surroundings. The streets were tree-lined with large green front lawns. It was an expensive area full of doctors, lawyers and business CEOs. Though they did fall into the former category, Cate wasn't sure how he'd gel with the neighbors of the latter categories. He barely, no scratch that, hardly gelled with those of his _own_ profession. Lawyers and CEO's were a whole other lot. This looked like a neighborhood where people actually associated with each other, maybe friendly and sociable. He would most certainly _hate_ that.

Bonnie pulled the car into the sloping driveway of a charming looking single story house. _Finally, no second floor_. The front yard was big and lush with hedges and rhododendrons along the front that would no doubt be beautiful in full bloom in another month or so. They walked up the brick lined path to the red front door. Slipping out her key, Bonnie led them into the foyer.

"Now, this is a modern construction, with traditional flair," she explained. "The house was built in 1999. Everything was custom designed from the built-ins by the fireplace here to the open view kitchen with a center island and eat-in bar."

She led them directly into the great room and Cate was immediately taken by the large open space that flowed seamlessly from the living area to the dining room to the kitchen. There were gorgeous handcrafted floor to ceiling bookshelves, with cabinet storage at the bottom flanking the fireplace on the right-hand wall. While there was still furniture from the existing family, she could tell there was room for two sofas or a sectional, Wilson's leather chair, a large entertainment center _and_ his piano. To the left, the open dining room housed a for a full sized table and chairs and a china cabinet.

And the kitchen. The kitchen was not _little_ or _darling_. It was exquisite. And huge. The cabinetry was cherry with granite countertops. The center island had a bank of pendant work lights in gorgeous pewter and glass while the breakfast bar on the opposite side was slightly elevated to accommodate bar stools for eating.

Cate turned and looked at House who was casually taking in the splendor of the room. She ambled around the perimeter of the counter and ran her hand over the professional grade stainless steel gas stove with six burners. He raised his eyebrows at her and then wandered to a set of double French doors off to the left of the dining room. Swinging them open with both hands, he stopped and let out a triumphant roar. "Yes!"

Bonnie smiled at her with pleasure and excitedly urged her to follow him into the room.

He quick stepped it into the space all the while groaning in ecstasy. When Cate stepped into the threshold, she almost laughed out loud. There was a black felted pool table smack in the center of the room.

Entering the room, which could only be for all practical purposes named a 'man cave', Cate smiled at his boyish excitement. If there was a selling point, this was now certainly at the top of his checklist. A big plasma screen TV sat at one end in front of a leather couch that looked suspiciously like theirs. A bar sat at the other end complete with a neon beer sign and a bank of scotch on mirrored shelves. The room was painted a deep brick red and had the feeling of a billiard room in an old estate. _Nice_.

Cate chuckled. "I'm sure the pool table doesn't come with the house."

"Oh it does," Bonnie chimed. "The family is moving to Arizona and don't want to ship it."

"Sold!"

Cate rolled her eyes. "Greg, this is a million dollar home. And we haven't even seen the bedrooms yet."

"Well, let's do it to it then," he said rushing out of the room past them to see the rest of the house.

Bonnie took the lead and brought them to a short set of stairs that Cate somehow had not noticed nestled in between the living room and dining room walls upon walking in the place. She grimaced. "You said there were no stairs."

"It's only six," House said climbing them slowly one by one.

"It's a split-level. The bedrooms are at the back of the house," Bonnie explained as she waited for him to ascend the set of steps before following him.

Cate trailed after them into the carpeted hallway that ran through the middle to end in a main bathroom the size of a small child's room. Bonnie took a left turn into the master suite as she called it.

Cate looked up at the vaulted ceiling and then down at the bay window with a padded seat overlooking the backyard patio and pool. _Holy crap!_ An in-ground pool and covered barbequing patio. _Good God! _This house had to be more than a million dollars. There was no way they could afford this.

"Whoa…" he exclaimed from the bathroom.

Reluctantly catching his wave of excitement, Cate followed him in. There was a marble tiled Jacuzzi tub with a similar bay window behind it also overlooking the backyard. He looked at her and raised his eyebrows suggestively and she knew exactly what he was thinking. They could both fit in there with plenty of room for maneuvering. Nice.

"Now, wait 'til you see this," Bonnie said leading them out of the room and into the bedroom across the hall. "This room would be for the baby. Directly across the hall from yours."

She opened the door letting them walk into the space. Cate crossed into the area and stopped in the center spinning around to take it all in. The room was decorated in a pale butter yellow and had a fairytale mural painted on all four walls. A tree anchored the corner with a little mama bunny and her babies frolicking in the flowers beneath its welcoming branches. On another side, butterflies and birds flew joyously through the expanse of the wall. And on the other wall, old-fashioned Pooh Bear sat with his paw in a jar full of honey next to adorable pink little Piglet.

Cate brought her hands to her mouth and turned her eyes to him. He was watching her closely knowing that she was getting emotional. He stepped toward her putting his hand along her shoulders giving her a gentle squeeze.

"Give us a moment," he said to Bonnie who graciously left them alone in the room.

"Oh Greg," she whispered, stepping into his embrace.

"It's perfect," he said into her hair as he placed his chin on her head.

Pulling back a bit, she looked up at him. "It's over a million dollars."

He shrugged. "We can afford it."

"And if I have to stop working?"

"We can afford it."

"It's so big. Maybe we should consider that one we saw earlier in the week by the high school," she suggested wondering how they would manage such a huge expensive space to live in.

"It's got everything we wanted, traditional moldings, built-in shelves, a fire place. There's even one in our bedroom. How sexy is that?"

"It has stairs," she pointed out.

"It's only six. And the more I do it, the easier it will be," he said offhandedly. "Let's be serious, there's a pool table!"

Cate chuckled. "Yes. There is. And a pool in the backyard."

"I know." He squeezed her to him with barely controlled excitement. "We can have sex in the pool and then come in and have sex on pool table. It's like a fun land!"

"And there's a third bedroom we didn't even look at yet," she stated and then said, "My dad can stay the night so he doesn't have to drive back to Philly in the dark."

He narrowed his eyes and furrowed his brow causing her to laugh. "Oh that's just _soooo_ not a selling point."

"Oh stop, you know sometime we're going to have to take into consideration our parents are getting old," she reminded him.

"Yeah, that's what old people homes are for," he said stepping out of her arms and over to the wall where he touched a painted squirrel eating nuts in the tree. "We'll have to change this once he's old enough to not be into bunnies and teddy bears."

"That's like three years away," she said.

He eyed her from over his shoulder dubiously. "Maybe a year tops."

"He's going to be a baby for a while, Greg. Toddlers still like cute and cuddly things," she said with a chuckle. "We can still put the Phillies face plate on the light switch. It'll up the testosterone quotient." Coming up behind him, she wrapped her arms around his waist and rested her head on his back against the worn leather of his jacket. "Do you want to make an offer?"

He covered her hands with his and then nodded. "Yeah."

Calling Bonnie back in, he took care of all of the necessary evils of paperwork and such, as she further inspected the rest of the house. Now it became a waiting game. Soon they would know if this gorgeous house that seemed like it was designed especially for them would become their new home. Keeping her fingers crossed, Cate finally felt comfortable with their decision.

_Maybe Bonnie wasn't the worst realtor in New Jersey after all._


	29. Chapter 29: The Super Market

Sessions II: Nine Months

Chapter 28: The Super Market

They were only supposed to run in and pick up something for dinner and a case of toilet paper. _Why_? Because he, of course, had forgotten to get some last night when she reminded him via text not five minutes before he left the hospital. At least he _claimed_ he had forgotten. She knew better, however, because he refused to look at her when he had come home empty handed. He was just too lazy to go. Then this morning, he sheepishly handed her the tissue box when she screamed on the toilet because he had used the end of the very last roll they had.

It was cold and rainy and she was not really in the mood for this impromptu shopping excursion. The baby was kicking up a storm and the chicken Caesar salad she had for lunch was giving her a severe case of heartburn. She double stepped to keep up with him as he flew by her across the parking lot. He was always quicker than one would expect a guy with a cane to be. However today he seemed extra speedy. If truth be told, it was more that she was now just exceptionally slow. She was five months along and lugging around a twelve pound basketball in front of her. She wasn't exactly in the running for the four-minute mile.

Impatiently, he held out his palm to her as they approached the automatic door and wiggled his fingers at her when she didn't immediately respond. He wanted a quarter to put in to unlock a shopping cart.

"What? We don't need that, we're just getting a few things, " she said.

"Cripple with one hand and a cane, " he complained extending his hands out to demonstrate. "Not carrying the basket."

"Fine." She rolled her eyes and dug in her purse for her wallet. "I don't want this to take forever." She pushed the coin into his hand.

"And I do?" he questioned shoving her out of the way so he could dislodge the first from the massive train of bent and crooked shopping carts. "_Gossip Girl_ is on the agenda for tonight."

"I hate _Gossip Girl_, " Cate complained following him into the store.

"Too bad… You made me watch _The Way We Were_, " he said hanging his cane on the side of the metal carriage and leaning his elbows onto the handle to push it with his arms.

"So for how many years am I going to have to pay for that one, " she objected ignoring the bratty tone that came out of her mouth.

"Five, " he considered this for a moment and then shook his head. "It's Barbara Streisand. That's five years of penance. We watch _Gossip Girl_."

"Whatever, " she said leading him into the vegetable aisle to grab a bag of salad, some baby carrots and fresh broccoli.

"Apples, " he announced and maneuvered the cart in the direction of the bank of shinny red fruit.

Juggling her three bags of vegetables, she found him haphazardly placing random apples in a bag. _Whoa, way too many..._ "Greg, we don't need that many apples."

"I like apples," he said dumping two more in.

"And you're not even looking at them," she griped incredulously, quickly placing the vegetables in the cart and stopping his hands. "You have to check them for bruises and holes."

He sighed unhappily and thrust the bag at her face. "Here check 'em."

Breathing for patience, Cate grabbed the bag of apples and inspected them for any and all damage. Out of the seven he put in there, four were remarkably good but three had to go. She quickly replaced the damaged apples and deposited them in the cart, which he had abandoned in the thirty seconds it took for the apple exchange. He was now in search of bananas. His impatience and love of all things sweet was kicking in. Shaking her head on a frustrated laugh, she pushed the cart over to him. "No brown spots. They have to have just turned yellow with a little bit of green on the ends."

He stood in front of the banana display looking perplexed. "What difference does it make? Bananas are bananas are bananas. _B-bananas. B-a-n-a-n-a-s…_"

Cate blinked at him. "Okay, Gwen… bananas with brown spots are icky sweet. I like them when they just turn yellow."

"Ah who cares…" he reached out and grabbed a bag, of brown spotted bananas.

"I care," she replied and put the bag back in exchange for the right kind. "When you're a human garbage disposal who'll eat anything, it might not matter to you, but I don't like my bananas extra sweet."

He raised his eyebrow at her. "That's not what you said last night."

She giggled, despite herself and the serious conversation about bananas, and smacked him playfully on the arm. "Stop. You're such a dirty pig!"

He waggled his eyebrows at her. "And you love my banana. _B-a-n-a-n-a-s…"_ he sang repeatedly as they carried on down the aisle. Suddenly, he halted in the middle of the aisle. "Ooo, I think I'm gonna download that as my new ringtone."

"Please don't."

"I'll make it Wilson's." He was now preoccupied with the interface on his cell phone. He continued to bob his head to the music playing inside his skull as he meandered in front of her in no particular direction. If she were lucky, she could get a few things taken care of as long as she didn't lose him like a wondering toddler in the process. Tugging on his coat sleeve, she directed him over to the organic milk and eggs. She managed to retrieve those things, some cheese and edamames all the while he was engaged with his phone.

Satisfied with his new toy to taunt Wilson with, he snapped his phone shut and replaced it on his belt clip. He picked up a bag of cashews from the organic nut stand and tossed them into the cart before he unceremoniously shoved her off the cart to resume his elbow driving.

Glad she didn't have to push, because it had a wonky walleyed wheel, Cate continued along side him rubbing her hand over her belly. "What do you want to eat for dinner?"

He shrugged. "I don't know. You?"

She sighed. "I don't know, either."

An idea hit him. "Ooo, how about your chili? We haven't had that in a while."

Cate grimaced and felt her stomach turn over. She ran her hand firmly over the top of her belly to settle it. "No, no, no. I have terrible heart burn today. Which reminds me, I need more _Tums_."

He nodded and turned the cart down the health and beauty aid aisle. "That's probably because Junior's got your stomach up where your lungs should be."

"Yeah, just about," she muttered and took in a shallow breath.

He paused the cart by the antacids. "What flavor?"

"Mint, the soft chews not the hard ones," she amended.

Nodding, he plucked the bottle off the shelf and dropped it into the cart with a clang. He inched a little further down the row and grabbed a bottle of Metamucil, adding that as well.

"I don't need that," she told him. Luckily, she was not constipated… _yet_.

"I do," he muttered quietly.

Cate slid him a surprised glance. "Maybe you just need to eat more salad."

"Maybe you should just worry about your own poop."

Cate shook her head and then it dawned on her. "It's because you've been taking a hell of a lot more Vicodin lately. Excessive Vicodin use causes…"

"I know what it causes," he grunted. "I've been abusing it for a decade. So get your nose out of my poop."

"Fine," she said with a smirk and turned to continue on their trek making a mental note to switch to brown rice and whole grains from now on.

Coming up on the toothpaste, she remembered that they were almost out of that too. Of course the one she wanted was way down at the bottom of the shelf. "We're out of toothpaste. I can't bend to get it…"

"And I can?" He snorted at her. "There's like twelve more uses out of the tube we have. We don't need it right now."

"And next week I'll be able to bend and get it?"

He rolled his eyes at her.

"Could you please?"

"Fine." She honestly didn't know what he was complaining about, his damn gorilla arms were long enough to reach down that far if he even just slightly bent at the waist. With a smirk he pitched it into the cart. "Happy now?"

"Yes. Thank you." She could hear her mother laughing down at her from Heaven. This was vaguely reminiscent of shopping trips with her father when she was young. House would hate to hear that he even remotely sounded like her father.

They made their way around the corner and Cate realized they were passing the baby aisle. That was one place she never had to go unless she needed Q-tips. Out of curiosity, she hooked her hand on the end of the cart and pulled him in the direction of the baby foods.

"We don't need anything from down here yet," he complained.

"Aren't you even a little curious," she asked.

He shrugged. "Not really."

She ignored his feigned disinterest and looked at the hundreds of different foods in tiny little jars or plastic containers. The further they wandered in, the more it began to smell like that familiar comforting scent of baby powder. She inhaled deeply and smiled. You had to be a coldhearted bastard to not enjoy the smell of baby. Glancing at him out of the corner of her eye, she noticed a smile tipping at the corners of his mouth. When he realized she was watching him, he immediately put on a scowl and pushed on. "Are you going to breastfeed?"

Taken off guard, she considered his question for a moment. _That was a good question_. She hadn't really thought about it yet. "I don't know. Maybe for a little while in the beginning."

He looked at the different choices of bottles and nipple types and nodded. "How do you know which one to pick?"

She shrugged and lifted a Playtex Nurser package off the rack. "These have been around since I was a kid. They say that because the bag collapses it's the most like a real breast."

"It makes sense," he said. "You could pump it out and then I could feed the baby too."

Cate smiled at him and melted. He wanted to take part in feeding the baby. _That was so adorable_. Touching her hand to his arm, she looked at him finding his eyes. "We could most definitely do that."

He nodded his head and moved on. "Ok, enough nonsense. Daddy's hungry."

Placing the bottle set back on the shelf, she followed him. "What are you in the mood for that's not too spicy or too rich."

"Umm I don't know, I guess that leaves chicken?"

"Why don't we get one of those rotisserie chickens? It's done already and I don't have to cook, because this is wearing me out and we haven't even gotten to the toilet paper yet."

Turning the cart, he passed the baking, canned goods and juice aisles making a direct heading for the cookie aisle. Cate grimaced. His sweet tooth was unparalleled. Opening her mouth to object, he cut her off with a swift look. "Daddy needs cookies. Period. End of story."

She followed him down the aisle watching the carnage, as there was nothing neither she nor anyone could do about it. One by one, he gently placed them with reverence onto the growing pile of groceries. Two packages of chocolate chip cookies, two packages of fudge stripes, only one of Oreos, which was weird, and two packages of Pepperidge Farm chocolate macadamia nut cookies. Sadly, this would only last him a week. How he managed to never gain a pound was beyond her. She supposed that excessive amounts of testosterone and a rapid metabolism had to do the trick. She, on the other hand, could just smell the cookies and gain a pound. _How was this fair_?

They left the aisle and made their way to the bread where she picked up a loaf of multigrain and of whole wheat, for his 'problem', some English muffins and some new peanut butter because he ate that like it was going out of style too.

Suddenly, his hip sang out loudly.

_A few times I've been around that track_

_So it's not just gonna happen like that_

_Cause I ain't no hollaback girl_

_I ain't no hollaback girl…_

He paused and unclipped his cell phone from his belt with a pleased little smile. "It's Wilson."

_Oooh, this my Shit , this my Shit_

_Oooh, this my Shit , this my Shit_

Cate rolled her eyes. Gwen Steffani. _Ugh, she hated that song._ She nodded at him with a flat smile appeasing his childish tendencies. "Excellent."

Pushing the cart across the aisle, she went to the yogurt.

"Hello, you have reached the 'Hollaback Girl Hotline, please state the nature of your shit."

He laughed loudly and Cate ignored him as if she didn't know him and perused the yogurt looking for the thick and creamy kind that she liked. She found them and placed them into the cart while he rambled to Wilson. _Vanilla, key lime pie, strawberry banana…_

"Get the kind with the Reeses Pieces on top…" he instructed at her. Cate rolled her eyes at him realizing her was talking to her about the 'so called' yogurt and put one in. "_Not you, idiot; do you have Reeses Pieces there?_" He griped loudly at Wilson making a face and grabbed three more. "Yeah, we made an offer… A lot…. _A lot, a lot_."

Leaving him trailing behind, Cate moved down the aisle again to the orange juice.

He continued to talk loudly on the phone like he wasn't in a public place. "I don't know… she said as soon as a couple of days maybe a week… Nah, Cate hates her more than Bonnie hates me…"

"Oh, which reminds me, is Cuddy there with him?" Cate asked coming up along side of him with two containers of orange juice. He looked at her confused by her train of thought. Sighing she rolled her eyes. "People who hate you…" she whispered by way of explanation.

"Oh." He mouthed and then spoke into the phone. "Is the Devil's Whore around?" He laughed again. "Ugh, she's not _my_ whore. In this scenario, that would make _you_ the Devil incarnate." He looked at her and moved the receiver. "Why?"

"I need to know if we're still on for pre-natal yoga tomorrow morning."

He brought the receiver back up to his mouth. "She wants to know if they're still going to their yoga for rotund people at the butt-crack of dawn."

"Yes," he answered. "Cool. Sounds good. Yup. Oh and Wilson…" he snapped the phone shut hanging up on him with a devious laugh.

"Why do you do that to him?"

He laughed and stuck his phone back on his jeans. "Because he falls for it every time."

"So what kind of trouble are you two getting into tomorrow? Am I gonna need bail money?"

"No," he made a disgruntled face. "His car is going in for an oil change and we're going to breakfast."

"Spoken like the two old men that you are."

"Whatever," he grumbled. "We need something to do while you two contort yourselves into fat little pretzels for an hour and a half. And then have juice smoothies afterwards and dish…" he added in his best girlish lisp.

She ignored him and pushed the cart, which was now really heavy and difficult to move. "Come on, let's get this chicken and get out of here. We're done."

Taking pity on her, he shoved her out of the way again and propelled the cart forward with a hefty push.

They checked out in record time. $95.67 later, they made their way out of the store.

Cate groaned. _Now she had to pee… "_Oh shit! We forgot the toilet paper!"

HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

A/N: I know this chapter is a little shorter than the rest and seems a little like filler, but I wanted to explore the ultimate domesticity of a married couple. What better way then to go food shopping? And who hasn't gone for a few things and come out with cartful forgetting what you originally intended to get in the first place?!

My intended second half of it turned out to really be a stand-alone. It's much shorter than the rest but it needs it own space as it starts a story arc that takes a bit from cannon and spins in my own way. I will post it shortly in a few days, so everyone can catch up on this first. Hope you're still enjoying the ride. Hugs and Kisses!


	30. Chapter 30: Pain

Sessions II: Nine Months

Chapter 30: Pain

_A/N: As promised… the intended second part of the chapter. This sparks and important story arc that takes a tidbit from canon and of course spins in my own special way. This could be a very important turning point for our favorite guy. So as always… Enjoy!_

HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

House sat up in bed and ground his teeth to keep from groaning out loud. He closed his eyes and rubbed his hand furiously against the battered muscle in his thigh. He was pain. A lot of it. Replacing his right hand with his left, he continued to massage the angry extremity as he searched for his pill bottle in the dark.

He didn't want to wake her; she hadn't been sleeping well herself because she was having more and more difficulty finding a comfortable position to lie in. And then once she found a spot, the poor thing had to get up and pee. She was miserable and he didn't blame her.

Finally, he found the bottle and thumbed off the lid tossing out two into his mouth. His mouth was dry and the sharp pills took their sweet old time as they raked their way down his esophagus. Running his tongue over the bitter path on the roof of his mouth, he swallowed hard again to force peristalsis to happen and push the pills the remainder of the way down to his stomach. He was in agony and it needed to stop.

Leaning forward he dropped his face into his hands willing his mind to overcome the shredding, throbbing sensation raging in his leg. He didn't get it. Every time the weather changed drastically, his leg responded in kind. Spring was in full force with the chilled wind and rain and in many ways that was worse than the bitter ice cold of winter. The cold dampness did more damage.

He fisted his hands on his lap as another wave of pain coursed through him and he involuntarily let out a moan. _Fuck_. She stirred instantly behind him. In a matter of seconds, she was up and against his back with her sweet, warm hands on his shoulders. _Dammit_. He didn't need her to be a part of this.

"How bad is it?" she asked quietly into his ear as she hugged him tightly from behind.

He let out a strangled whimper. "Bad."

"What can I do for you?"

He closed his eyes and shook his head. _God, she was so sweet_. "Nothing."

Not taking 'no' for an answer, she leaned over and turned his bedside light on. "Why don't we try the tub?"

He shook his head defeatedly. "It's three o'clock in the morning."

She climbed out of bed rising to her feet and tugged on his arm. "Come on. We're going to be seeing plenty of this hour come August. We better get used to it."

Too exhausted and weak to protest, he obediently allowed her to lead him into the bathroom. She promptly turned on the hot water and began to fill the tub. For an added bonus, she poured some of her Egyptian scented oil into the stream of water. Immediately, the room filled with the aroma of sandalwood and jasmine on the rising steam. He breathed in the comforting familiar scent that would now forever be associated with only her. He began to take his clothes off, shamefully having to lean on the wall for support. He hated how pathetic his leg made him.

A few minutes later, the tub was full and he moved like a five hundred pound sloth to get in. She held out her hands to balance him and he brushed her away forcefully. "No. If I fall, I'm not taking you down with me."

Without argument, she stepped back and let him awkwardly maneuver his way over the edge. Once in and certain he wasn't going to slip, he carefully immersed himself into the steaming hot water. He let out a groaning sigh as the hot water coursed over his skin, scalding his unaffected parts while working some of its magic to draw the ache out of his enraged leg. He took in a shuddering breath and leaned his head back against the tile.

"Better?" she asked turning her loving gaze down at him.

He closed his eyes taking hold of her hand as he nodded. "Yeah."

She smiled at him and plucked her robe off of the hook behind the door putting it on before she settled herself on the floor to face him. She leaned her arms on the edge of the tub as a pillow to rest her head as she watched him with a sleepy smile. He sighed relaxing into the heat of the water keeping his eyes trained on her face. Even in the dead of night with tired dark circles under her eyes, she was still the most beautiful woman he'd ever laid eyes on.

"I read a controversial article at work the other day," she mentioned, trailing her hand in the water letting the gentle splashing sound fill the silence of the room.

"Oh yeah, controversial psychotherapy? Are they going back to lobotomies for schizophrenics?"

She chuckled. "No. It's about pain management."

He snorted derisively. "Oh this ought to be good."

"It is," she said. "There's a doctor out in California who's been advocating the use Methadone to treat chronic pain for fibromyalgia and other types of neuropathies."

"So, they've been using it for terminal cancer patients for years," he said. "Wilson's prescribed it for his patients."

"So why haven't you tried it?" she asked. "He writes you Vicodin scripts, why not that?"

He laughed. "Methadone? Why not just go full bore and do heroin? I can be down with that."

"The Methadone is a powerful pain reliever and will wean you off the Vicodin because it isn't addictive. That's why they use it to detox heroine addicts because it blocks the euphoric effect of opiods."

"I know. I went to medical school too."

"I'm just saying." She continued to swirl the water. "It's something to think about. What if we can take away your pain?"

"Or I could stop breathing. Can't have pain if I'm dead," he muttered.

"We could do it in controlled dosages. I can monitor you," she looked at him sincerely. "No one would have to know."

He watched her for long time. She was serious. _Deadly serious_. He couldn't believe she was suggesting something so radically dangerous. That was his territory, not hers. "Why would you want me to take such a risk?"

"Because I've watched you for weeks try to hide how bad your pain has become again," she explained. There was a sadness to her voice that almost killed him. "You haven't slept straight through the night for over a month. You're back to what… ten, twelve Vicodin a day?"

"On a good day," he admitted reluctantly. _It was really closer to twenty. Maybe more_.

"Every day, I look in your eyes to check for jaundice, praying that your liver isn't going to crap out on you. Every day, I see how tortured you are and I don't want you to live that way. If there's a way I can help you, I'll do whatever it takes."

As if on cue, his leg spasmed and he shifted in the water to massage the muscle. "Let's say I do this, how would it work? I wouldn't have to go in for treatment, would I?" He couldn't believe he was even contemplating this let alone having a conversation about his leg. He never talked about it with anyone. Not even Wilson if he could help it.

"I would prescribe it, monitor it and give you the proper dosage…" she paused and leveled her eyes at him. "And you would have to relinquish control to me."

He shook his head. "As S&M sexy as that sounds, I don't think so."

"You can't do it on your own; you're an addict and addicts can't administer their own treatment which inherently is why they're addicts in the first place," she stated.

"I don't know," he said looking up at the ceiling. "I'll think about it."

She shrugged. "Whenever… I'm not going anywhere. You on the other hand might… but that's up to your liver."

"Sure make fun of the cripple guy with the overtaxed liver, that's nice," he muttered splashing her with the water from his hand.

She laughed at him and moved back a little out of range. "I take my opportunities when I can get 'em."

He looked around the bathroom and laughed. "Here we are again having a deep conversation in the bathroom."

"Our best conversations happen here," she said with a little smile.

"You think it'll be the same in the new house?"

"Oh definitely, I'm never going to get you out of that whirlpool tub. Between that and the pool table, I may never see you again."

He wiggled his eyebrows at her. "Oh you will because you'll be in the tub with me."

She chuckled at him and held his hand in the water.

Well, this was certainly something to think about. He had a lot at stake and a decision like this couldn't be made lightly. There was the baby, Cate, the new house; never mind his own person investment. Wilson would think he was a complete and total idiot, which probably meant that he was going to go through with it. Nevertheless, he needed to think long and hard about it.

_Life without pain_… that was a big incentive.


	31. Chapter 31: Changes

Sessions II: Nine Months

Chapter 31: Changes

Monday morning was frigid and gray and House wanted nothing more than to stay in bed all day snuggled up with Cate under the down comforter but, apparently she had other plans. Like going to work. She had gotten up at the butt-crack of dawn to pee and evidently decided that it was as good a time as any to shower and leave for work. He vaguely remembered her saying something about catching up on paperwork before her appointments and that she'd see him later. She had kissed him goodbye and the next thing he knew his alarm was going off at 9:00 AM.

It was cold and lonely without her in the bed; and that made his leg hurt a lot. He wasn't sure what was worse; the fact that the air outside his blanket was chilly or that he didn't have the heat of her body pressed up against him. Reaching out to the nightstand from the corner of the quilt, he grabbed his Vicodin. Taking out two, he palmed the tablets into his mouth and choked them back. He cringed at the bitter taste, disgusted that he used to derive such pleasure from it not so long ago. Rolling over, he grabbed her new Magic Foam pregnancy body pillow and threw his aching limb over it. Surprisingly, it was really comfortable and he nestled down into it relieving some of the pressure on his leg. He sighed and then waited for the eventual familiar dulling of the pain.

The thing was the pain never totally went away, no matter how much Vicodin he took. It just blunted the hurt from a raging angry life-force draining throb, to a cantankerous mind-numbing aching pulse.

He was infuriated that his leg was back to being its usual horrible self. He wanted so badly to believe that the pain was all in his head. He didn't want to do drugs anymore. He didn't want to be high all of the time. Sure it felt good for a while but most of the time he felt like shit waiting for his next fix. Each fix was like a tollbooth on the Parkway; each dose marked the passage of time in his day. It was first thing in the morning, and once he got to the office. It was at the beginning, middle and end of clinic duty. It was before a new case, then after the team screwed up with the patient or during a DDX. He'd take another couple after lunch, then before General Hospital, then again before going home. At home there were two bourbons and a pair of pills on the couch followed by two before bed and sometimes in the middle of the night; maybe twice. Twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week, 365 days a year.

It was miserable.

Until he met Cate.

She was the only person to accept his drug addiction at face value for what it was. A necessity. Just her mere presence in his life had changed how he felt about his leg and his drug habit. Her love and support made him stronger. Her body close to his helped him to sleep. Her heat soothed him. She dulled his pain. Physically and emotionally. She made him feel good.

He wanted to stop the pills. More than anything, he wanted to stop the pain. He wanted to live long enough to see his son graduate from high school, hell, graduate from college and medical school. Yet, he knew at the rate he was going, he'd be lucky if he saw him graduate the eighth grade. The way he was feeling lately, maybe it was more like pre-school.

Slowly, he pushed his body into sitting. He swung his legs over the edge of the bed and sat for a moment adjusting to the stretch of taut angry muscle. Maybe she was right what she'd said the other night. Maybe the Methadone was the way to go. It would stop his addiction to the Vicodin at the same time as dealing with his pain. Of course, the risks were on the high side. In the transition period of finding the right dosage, he could stop breathing and die. With a baby on the way that just didn't seem a viable option. On the flip side, she knew what she was doing. She'd weaned people off of drugs all the time. She would monitor, she would dole out the dosages, and she would control it and make sure nothing happened to him. She had just as much vested in his living as anyone.

Rubbing his leg into submission he prepared to stand and get moving for the day. He stood and hobbled carefully to the bathroom, each footstep sending shooting pain through his thigh. Stepping into the hot stream of the shower, he let the water course down his body working the tension out of his muscles. After a good twenty minutes and cleaning the essentials, he pulled himself out of the tub, dried off and got dressed. Eventually he was able to move around and make it into the hospital without too much effort but by the time he made it up to Diagnostics he needed another pill. Throwing his backpack onto the chair in his office, he palmed a single tablet and dry swallowed it on a curse.

He took off his coat and sat down in his chair. Mercifully every one of his do-gooders was out doing good somewhere else. It was quiet. He decided he was going to have to have Kutner do his clinic duty. There was no way he wouldn't be arrested for first degree murder if he worked with those moronic people down there with the way his leg was acting today. He ran his hand over his face and closed his eyes.

The telltale noise of his door opening made him cringe his eyes open to narrow slits. Wilson had pushed the door open and came in. He approached the desk carrying two paper cups of coffee.

"Tell me that's a mocha latte extra-whip," he groaned looking at his friend.

"Indeed it is," Wilson said placing the cup on his desk blotter before sitting down.

House picked up the cup appreciatively and leaned back in his chair. "How come you're bringing me coffee?"

Wilson eyed him from the other side of the desk. "It's 11:30. Usually your wander in here around 10:15, 10:30, I figured you'd had a rough morning, probably after a rough night."

House quirked his eyebrows and nodded. "Thanks."

"How bad is it?" Wilson asked curiously.

House sipped his coffee and winced at the heat as it burned his tongue. "Bad."

"Worse then it ever is this time of year?"

"Marginally," he hedged.

"You're back up to enough Vicodin to kill an elephant," he mentioned, letting him know that he'd been slyly paying attention.

"I know."

"But you were cutting back. And successfully, I might add," he said.

"I know." This one came out a little more in the frustrated vein.

"What are you going to do about it?" he wondered.

House sighed and hoisted his leg up to the desk with both hands before crossing his feet at the ankles and picking up his cup again. "Nothing I can do."

He didn't want to tell Wilson about Cate's idea about the Methadone. Mr. Righteous would immediately object because of the danger in regulating the dosages. He'd go on and on about House's reckless nature and how he was just looking for a quick fix. Except not fix in the sense of a high, but as a temporary solution to his problems. No, he didn't want to listen to Sister Mother Mary profess the dangers that he already knew all to well about yet, was seriously taking into consideration.

"Do you want me to call Ingrid for you?" Wilson proposed.

House tipped his head in deliberation. He hadn't had a massage since they were in Jamaica and Ingrid was always good. He could do worse than to have a beautiful woman rub down his body for an hour and half. "Yeah, that might not be a bad idea."

Wilson leaned to the side and took his cell phone out of his back pocket. "I should have her do me too."

House arched an eyebrow at him. "'_Do you' too_? I didn't think Cuddy was all that into sharing her favorite toy."

Wilson grunted. "Not '_do me_, do me'. You know, give me a massage." He ran his hand over the back of his neck kneading out the tension in his traps. "I can't move my neck any farther than here…" he turned his head in tandem with his shoulders, moving his whole torso a ridiculous fraction of an inch to demonstrate his limited movement.

House chuckled at his misery. "Why? What's got you wound up tighter than a nun's hoo-hoo?"

Wilson let out a heavy sigh and held his phone down by his lap. "It's Lisa. She…"

"Wait," House cut him off waving his hand. "Appointment first, then drama."

Forgetting himself, he nodded in acquiescence and searched his registry for her number. He reached her and quickly made two appointments while House sipped his coffee. _Nice_. Replacing his phone in his butt pocket, he tilted back to a somewhat level position and crossed his legs.

"Maybe you shouldn't sit on your phone all the time," House mentioned.

"What does my phone have to do with anything," Wilson questioned.

"Your butt cheeks," he said holding out his hands as if cupping said piece of anatomy. He tipped them back and forth to show imbalance. "Your one cheek is uneven with the other making your spine crooked thereby fucking up your neck."

"You think?" he considered this as he shifted again to 'level', testing his theory.

"Plus, it makes it really hard for me to steal your phone without touching your ass."

Wilson drew his eyebrows together in confusion and then in concern. "You steal my phone? And touch my ass? Why do you steal my phone?"

"Because yours is way cooler than mine and it has Bubble Breaker," he replied giving him a look that said, 'duh'.

Wilson eyed him suspiciously removing his cell phone and replacing it in his front pocket. He shrugged and shook it off deciding it was better to just leave that little tidbit as it were. "So anyway, back to Lisa."

House grimaced. "Yes, back to Cuddle-bumps…"

"She's completely freaking out about the amnio tomorrow," he whined throwing his hands up on the air and then wincing as his neck pinched. "I can't get her to relax."

"She's not going to relax until it's done," House said matter-of-factly.

"No probably not, but she's a walking bundle of nerves," he worried. "I'm afraid she might trip and hurt herself or the baby. She's so worked up she might crumble into a million tiny pieces."

"That would be good for me," House mused. "It would be a world without boundaries, endless freedoms, limitless potential..." He drifted off, mind buzzing with the possibilities.

"A new boss who'd fire your ass as soon as you said brain biopsy."

"Dream killer."

Wilson snorted at him and sipped his coffee. "What can I do for her? I don't know how to help her," he said dejectedly.

"Just be there. Say something comforting. Tell her the needle's not really that big. That works wonders," he quipped sardonically, remembering Cate's reaction to his lame attempt at comforting her.

Wilson rolled his eyes at him.

"Seriously. Just be there. Nothing you can say is going to make a difference."

Wilson frowned a little and nodded accepting that this was indeed a fact. "True. I just don't want her to be upset and worry over nothing."

"She's Cuddy. If she's not manically over-achieving, then she's not doing it right."

Wilson tipped his head side to side in agreement.

House's cell phone rang. Lifting up his shirt hem, he pulled it from the clip on his belt. "See? Belt clip. No uneven butt cheeks." He flipped it open. "What?"

"_Greg, it's Bonnie_…"

House raised his eyebrows at Wilson to get his attention. "Oh, hi Bonnie. How are you?" He gave Wilson a huge wink and received a wearily disbelieving shake of the head.

"_I have good news for you…_"

"You do?"

"_Yes. They have accepted your offer. The house is yours!"_

House dropped his legs to the floor and sat up. "Really?"

"_Yes. Really…_"

"That's great," he said, floored. _Cate was going to cry_. "So what now?"

"_Well, we have a ton of paper work for you two to sign. Once the lawyers look at the contracts and the house is inspected, we can go ahead and close._"

"How soon could that happen?"

"_Possibly 30 days if all goes well…"_

_Wow_. In thirty days, he could be potentially be uprooting his whole life and moving it to a new place for a fresh start. That was… _a little_ _daunting_. "Excellent. When do we sign the papers?"

"_We can meet this evening, if you're available?_"

He made the necessary arrangements and hung up the phone. Looking at Wilson, he let out a nervous laugh.

"Bonnie sold you a house?" Wilson asked incredulously.

"I know, weird huh?"

"Thought she couldn't sell her way out of a paper bag?"

"I think it was a fluke," he supposed. "I have to go tell Cate."

Grabbing his cane and coffee, he stood and left the office, Wilson following him. They went to the elevator and he pushed the button with the tip of his cane sipping his coffee as they waited.

"Are you going to be ok with this?" Wilson asked. "I mean this is a big deal. Moving, change…new _stuff_?"

House breathed. "Yeah…" he pursed his lips into a contemplative frown. "I guess I don't have any choice now, do I?"

Wilson placed his hands on his hips and winced again from the pinch in his neck. Dropping his hands in pain, he forced a smile at him. "Congratulations on becoming a grown-up boy, House."

House rolled his eyes at him. The elevator dinged with its arrival. He entered and punched the button to Cate's floor. The ride was short and the doors opened, depositing him on the sixth floor. He limped down the corridor to her office and past her assistant's desk. Noticing her usual secretary wasn't there after the fact, he doubled back. There was an older woman sitting at the chair.

"Good afternoon, Dr. House," she said sweetly to him.

He narrowed his eyes at her and tilted his head distrustfully. "Judy, my how you've aged."

The older woman chuckled and gave him a warm smile. "Judy's on vacation this week. I'm her temp. I'm Mrs. Frankle"

"Do I know you?" he asked curiously, because he was sure he'd never met this woman in his life, yet she knew his name.

"No. But everyone knows you," she said with a wink.

"Right," he muttered.

Cate opened her door then, "Mrs. Frankle, I need the file on…" she paused as soon as she saw him. "Oh no! What's wrong?"

He looked at her quizzically and stepped around the desk towards her. "There's nothing wrong."

"Then why are you here?" she asked looking confused.

"I'm not allowed to come see my wife?" he questioned.

"No, I just…" she stammered, thrown for a loop by his presence. "I just don't normally expect you to come up here if there's nothing going on." She stepped close to him and gave him a cursory kiss 'hello'.

"Oh there's something going on," he amended and received a concerned glance from her. "Bonnie called."

Her eyebrows perked up. "She did? What'd she say?" Her voice took on an air of anticipation.

Mrs. Frankle watched their exchange with rapt interest. He slid a sidelong glance at the nosy woman and then chose to ignore her. "We have an appointment tonight to sign the papers on our brand new house."

She gasped in surprise and jumped excitedly into his arms. "It's really ours?"

He laughed at her enthusiasm and hugged her to him. "Yes. All 3000 square feet of it."

She pulled back from him and dabbed at her mascara with her fingertips. Yep, she most definitely cried. Mrs. Frankle held out a tissue to her with a smile. Cate turned and accepted it, finishing the job with a sniffle. "Thank you."

Mrs. Frankle gleamed warmly at her. "It's alright dear. Those pregnancy hormones are a doozy and what's not to cry over a 3000 square foot house?" She rose from her chair and grabbed her cane, pointing a crooked finger at him. "You my dear, will have your job cut out for you. A pregnant wife and a brand new house; you're going to need some reinforcements." She winked at him and toddled over to the filing cabinet to retrieve Cate's file.

Cate gave him a perplexed little smile and he shrugged back at her. Mrs. Frankle was not in the least intimidated by him, considering that she knew exactly who he was. In fact, she was more grandmotherly in her demeanor to him. _That was different_. But, then again, he always did have a way with the old ladies.

"I have minions to do the heavy lifting," he told her lifting up his cane in team spirit.

"That's excellent dear," she said coming back with the necessary file, "because you're going to be busy keeping this one from overdoing it and over stressing herself to the point of exhaustion."

House tilted his head at the old woman and then at Cate who gave him a wry little grin. "I like this new Judy. I think we should keep her."

Cate smiled. "She is sweet and she likes you. A rare combination in any human being."

Mrs. Frankle sat back on her flower pillow covered chair. "Oh, silly, he's nothing but a lamb in a wolf's suit."

House smirked. "You hear that, a lamb, in a wolf's suit. That's me." He clutched his hand to his heart. _He loved this woman._

"Black sheep maybe," Cate chuckled placing her hand on the side of his face, petting him.

"All black sheep need is a fine lass, to bring 'em back home." He felt himself smile self-consciously as Mrs. Frankle cooed at him.

Cate grinned at him and then her eyebrows went up as a light bulb turned on in her head "Oh, God Greg, we have so much to do! We have to put the condo on the market, we have to call the cable company, we have to shop for new sofas, and lamps and…" she brought her fingers to her teeth and squeaked. "A crib and changing table for the baby!"

Mrs. Frankle raised an eyebrow at him. "See what I mean?"

"Oh you don't even know the half of it," he commiserated and then leaned on the edge of her desk. "Mrs. Frankle if you would so kindly clear Dr. Milton-House's schedule for the afternoon, I need to take my wife to lunch."

Cate eyed him skeptically. "You're taking me to lunch?"

"Yes, we are going to lunch, away from this hospital where we can talk and set up a game plan," he said taking her by the elbow to get her coat and purse from inside her office.

Dutifully she put her coat on and slung her purse over her shoulder. Coming up to him, she ran her fingers up the length of his lapels to lace together tickling the little hairs at the back of his neck. "You're taking me to lunch," she repeated with a sly little grin.

He placed his hand at her hip looking down into her deep brown eyes. "Yes. I am."

"It's like a date," she said biting her lip coquettishly with her white teeth.

"Not so much a date," he argued gently. "I see it more as a necessary evil."

She huffed. "How so?"

"It gets us both out of the hospital and I get to see you," he told her. "It's win, win."

She chuckled musically and placed a kiss on his lips. "It's a date."

He smirked at her. "Call it whatever you want. I need your pretty little head to brainstorm with me on a few things."

"Ok then, it's a whirlwind, brainstorming date. You still came to ask _me_ to out to lunch with _you_. And that my love, is a date."

He stepped out of her embrace and clasped his fingers around her hand leading her with him.

"Well sweetheart if that's a date, then you have decidedly low expectations."

"Low expectations means everything you do is special," she stated. "How is that a bad thing for you?"

He stopped before the door to her office and pulled her against him. He needed her body close to his. "It's not; I guess that just makes me the King of your world."

"You bet," she said and leaned in to kiss him slow and deep making him think twice about actually going anywhere besides the couch with the door locked.

She ended the kiss and he leaned his head against hers. Her warmth and nearness soothed the ache in his leg. "I love you."

Smiling at him, she purred, "I know."

Quickly, she inhaled a sharp breath. "Baby foot on the bladder. Must pee right now," she announced and pulled away from him dragging him out into the hall past Mrs. Frankle's desk.

Shaking his head on a laugh, he followed her out. He could not wait until his life was no longer run by the elimination of her bladder.

"Have a wonderful lunch date, you two," Mrs. Frankle called to them.

A brand new house, a date with his wife, and a secretary he liked. _What was going on in his world?_

HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

_A/N: Just popping in to thank all of you who have reviewed and added story alerts. I try to personally comment on each and every one but some of you guys don't have accounts I guess so this especially goes out to you. The rest of you, you know how much I love you! So what's our House going to do? Will he go for the Methadone? So much is changing in his life right now can he handle adding that to the mix? We shall see… Enjoy!_


	32. Chapter 32: Decisions

Sessions – Nine Months

Chapter 32: Decisions

"Are you sure you're feeling ok today?" Cate asked him as they waited for a table at a little café about ten minutes drive from the hospital. He was acting strangely and was clingier than usual. His hand was wrapped protectively around her waist and he had her tucked up against his side like a security blanket. Normally he was like this at home where no one could see them, but today he couldn't keep his hands off her. And then there was this lunch thing and at a cute little café? _What was going on with the men in her life?_ First her father and now him. It was odd.

"I'm fine," he said gruffly and then nodded as the hostess came to seat them.

He let go of her long enough to clasp her hand and lead her behind him to the table by the window. They sat and removed their coats, giving the young woman their drink orders.

"This place is cute, you come here often?" she asked looking around at the quaint décor not believing he'd ever set foot in a place like this.

He looked around and furrowed his brow. "No. I've never been here before."

"Oh," she smiled. "It looks nice."

A soft music played in the background adding to the ambience. She seemed to recall it was a Dave Matthews song.

"My mother told me about it," he said off handedly. "She said it was good."

That certainly made more sense; this was more of a Blythe place to eat. "Well your mother has good taste, I'm sure it's wonderful."

He took a deep breath and frowned. "We have an appointment with Bonnie tonight at 7:00."

Cate raised her eyes to him from the menu. "To sign all of the paper work?"

He nodded and stared out the window to the street. He was silent and preoccupied. That meant he was processing. Cate had come to realize that he got very quiet when he was overwhelmed with things going on inside his head. Life was changing too fast for him and he was panicking.

Cate reached across the table and placed her hand on his. He looked at her and laced his fingers with hers running his thumb along the sensitive skin of her wrist. She smiled at him and tipped her head looking into his eyes. He smiled, caught in his evasive tactics, and ran his other hand over the back of his head rolling his eyes on a sigh.

"It's a lot of change for you," she said gently. "I know how you have difficulty with that. But I promise we'll get through it together."

He stared at her amazed that she was able to read him so easily. "There's so much shit in that apartment. It's going to take months to go through it all."

"We can take our time, do it little by little," she told him.

He shook his head. "Nah, we should probably just do it fast, like ripping off a band-aid."

Cate held his gaze seriously. "Sweetheart, we don't have to do this…"

"No. I want to," he stated. "It's just a big deal… like being a real, grown-up boy."

She smiled and chuckled at him. "No way there Peter Pan, you will always have one foot in Never, Never Land no mater where you are."

He chuckled at her. "Ok, _Wendy_."

Placing their drinks on the table, the waitress came to take their orders and they realized they hadn't even looked at the menus.

Cate looked at her sheepishly. "Do you have grilled cheese and tomato soup?"

The young woman smiled. "Of course we do, American, Swiss or Provolone, on whole grain brioche. You can add sliced tomato, green apple and/or apple-wood smoked bacon."

Cate's mouth watered. "American cheese, with apple and bacon, please."

"Surprise," he muttered on a chuckle. "Same thing, no apple, extra bacon."

"And could you just bring a little side cup of syrup with that?" she requested seeing him immediately cringe out of the corner of her eye.

The waitress smiled. "Certainly. When are you due?"

Cate placed her hand on her belly. "August."

"Do you know what you having?" the young woman inquired.

"A little boy," Cate replied happily.

"Aw," she cooed. "I have a little boy at home, too. Justin, he's the light of my life. Have you picked a name yet?"

Cate looked at House who was quietly enduring the conversation with a bored look on his face. "No we haven't decided yet."

"Ah, well you have a little time until then, I'll go now and place your orders," she said pleasantly.

"You do that," House commented and flashed her a fake smile. He rolled his eyes after she left and Cate clucked her tongue at him.

"Stop, she was just being nice," she admonished taking a sip of her water. "You know we haven't even talked about what to name the baby."

He waved his hand at her. "Like she said we have time yet."

"I know. I'm just curious as to what you were thinking about it."

He shrugged. "Definitely not John."

She tossed a look at him. "Do you really think I'd want to name the baby after your father?"

"No. Not your father either," he added stirring sugar into his iced-tea.

"I already told him, 'no'."

"He asked you already?" he griped in astonishment.

"Yeah, he put in a request but I think he knows deep down that we won't do that," she said allaying any of his fears that she'd want to go in that direction.

"Good," he stated and then looked at her. "Do you have any thoughts?"

She breathed and gave him a calm smile. "I do, I've just been waiting for you."

He raised his eyebrows at her. "Well?"

"Well… I like the Irish names, Patrick, Sean, Conner, Finn…"

"Finn?" he objected almost snarfing his drink. "I'm not naming my kid after a piece of a shark."

"It's short for Finnegan," she said making a face at him.

"Oh yeah, 'cuz that's so much better," he protested. "The poor kid'll get beat up everyday after school. No way. Besides, _Finnegan House_ sounds like a landmark not a name."

She sighed heavily, knowing this was going to be long and difficult process. "It was just an idea."

"It sucks," he snarked.

"What about the others?" she challenged.

"_Patrick_ is the dumb pink starfish on Spongebob, _Sean_ is the guy that drank your pee and drilled a whole in your head and _Conner_ is the name of Eric Clapton's son who fell to his death from a 53 story window. No, no and no."

"Okay," Cate breathed. "How about you; do you have any ideas?"

"Umm, no." He pointed at her. "And definitely not Greg. There's only one Greg House."

"Oh, that's for sure," she muttered. "You haven't even though about this a little bit?"

"Not really, I just know what I don't like," he told her. "Why don't you come up with a better list and then we can discuss."

Cate laughed. "What so you can shoot down every name on it? I think not."

"So we'll just name the kid nothing. You hear that Baby," he said loudly in the direction of her belly, "Mommy doesn't want to name you. You're going to go through life as a blank on a scantron form."

Cate touched her hand to her belly protectively and pouted. "No Baby, Daddy's not cooperating and wants Mommy to do all of the work." The baby kicked her in the side and she gasped. Moving her hand over to the side, she stared at him. "He just kicked because he heard you."

House laughed. "No he kicked because his Mommy's a liar."

Cate gaped at him. "I'm a liar? Better watch out Pinocchio or you'll be able to use your nose as a cane."

Their food came at that moment effectively cutting off any sarcastic retort he was going to lob at her. They ate pleasantly talking over more names that he shot down in succession. The basic names like James, Michael, Matthew, Robert, Peter, Stephen and Thomas were all out. And so were Eric, Chris and Lawrence, because God forbid anyone think he'd named his child after Foreman, Taub or Kutner.

After they finished lunch, House led her out onto the sidewalk. The weather had cleared a little and the sun had started to peek out from the clouds making the air crisp and bright. He took her down the street towards the Pottery Barn for Kids. They were going to _just look_ at what was available in the way of cribs. It was a little bit of a walk and Cate was concerned for his leg but he said that walking sometimes helped. Taking out two Vicodin, he palmed them into his mouth and dry swallowed them making her cringe at the sound they made as he gulped them down. He was not doing well and that worried her but she couldn't press the issue. Plus, she agreed to the walk because it gave her more time to spend with him and this was such a rare opportunity that she didn't want to see it end.

The air was still chilly even though the sun shone brightly, so Cate held onto his arm to bring herself into his warmth. "What about Justin, that's a nice name," she continued.

"Justin's not bad," he considered squinting against the sunlight.

"Or Tyler?" she suggested.

"Tyler's a little trendy," he said.

"But it's strong," she argued. "We could call him Ty."

"Like that homo Ty Pennington on TV?" he griped referring to the host of _Extreme Make-over_, one of the shows he absolutely hated. "Uh uh."

"Or like Tyler Florence the chef," she countered.

"How is _that_ not gay?" he said with a laugh.

"What about Ty Cobb, baseball player, not gay," she added. "Ooo, or Steven Tyler, from Aerosmith, as hetero as they come."

"That's his last name," he argued. "Doesn't count."

"So, he's still really cool," she amended.

"Oh, here you go," he got excited. "Tyler Durden."

"Who is that?"

"The guy from _Fight Club_," he said excitedly.

"Are you serious? Brad Pitt's character?"

"Yeah, now he was a bad ass."

"He was a psychopath with dissociative identity disorder," she informed him.

"Still a bad ass," he reiterated with a shrug.

She shook her head at him, incredulous. _This was going to be a long process_. "We are not naming our baby after a psychopath."

He slowed at the door of the shop and pulled it open ushering her in. Cate loved the Pottery Barn, almost as much as Crate and Barrel, but as this was their first foray into baby furniture shopping, she wasn't going to complain. At least he was in the store.

"Look, there's a bed that's shaped a like a boat," Cate pointed out.

He nodded, and walked past it onto the cribs. Distracted by all of the adorable little boy things set up around the bed display, she momentarily lost him and had to hurry to keep up.

"Cribs, changing tables, over here," he said gesturing out with his hand.

Cate came up along side him and held onto his hand as they meandered through the displays. Some of the cribs were very nice. _Strong, sturdy looking, good for the long haul._

"They're either very feminine or very masculine," she said running her hand over the rail of one heavy wooded version.

"We need a masculine one," he said flipping over the price tag and subsequently boggling his eyes out. "Yikes…"

"But what if we…" she caught herself and waved her hand brushing off her last words, "Never mind."

"What?" he said looking at her. "What were you going to say?"

"Nothing," she sighed and smiled trying to push it off.

He came over to her and put his hand around the back of her neck. He looked softly into her eyes running his thumb gently along the edge of her jaw. "What were you going to say?"

She closed her eyes and gave him an apologetic smile. "I'm sorry, I keep thinking about the future and that it would be practical to get a crib that could work for a girl too." He opened his mouth to speak but she cut him off, "I know, I know, one little person out of my vagina at a time."

"Could you let me talk?" he said looking at her. She nodded biting her lip apprehensively with her teeth. "Cate, you can have as many a babies as you want _after_ we get through the initial shock of this one. I'm not going anywhere." Cate's heart welled up in her chest and took in a shuddering breath as he kissed her forehead and pulled her in close, wrapping his arms around her. Resting his cheek on her hair, he said quietly. "I want to switch to the Methadone."

Stunned, she pulled back from his embrace to look into his eyes. They were standing in the middle of the Pottery Barn and he drops a bomb on her like that as if it were nothing? "Are you sure?"

"I want to try it," he said sincerely. His hand traced the curve of her jaw to her lips. "I keep thinking about the future too," he told her and his breath hitched in his chest. "I don't want to live like this anymore."

Cate bit her lip as the tears sprung to her eyes. "I love you, so much."

"I can't get through it without you." It was a plea for help.

Not caring anymore that they were in the middle of a store, she took his face into her hands and placed a gentle kiss on his lips. "I'll write the prescription and work out a schedule a soon as I get back to the office. We'll do it under an assumed name, " she told him. "But, sweetheart, I need to know _exactly_ how much Vicodin you've been taking."

"Twenty five to thirty," he confessed heavily.

"Whoa," she swallowed. She had no idea it was that bad. "Okay. We'll get this under control. I promise."

He nodded and looked away from her, sniffing away any emotion that inadvertently rose to the surface. This was hard for him; to admit he had a problem and that he needed help. It took a lot of courage for him to expose himself like that and she was proud. They would get through this. She knew they would.

He brought his eyes back to hers. "Come on let's get out of here," he urged.

She smiled and placed her hand gently on his chest. "Good because I don't like anything here anyway."

He began to chuckle and then suddenly swept her into his arms again, kissing her until her knees went weak. When he ended the kiss, both of their lips burned, humming with desire. "God, I love you. What are you doing to me?" he murmured against her lips. "More people coming out of your vagina… are you crazy?"

"Certifiably."


	33. Chapter 33: Drug Bust

Sessions II – Nine Months

Chapter 33: Drug Bust

_A/N: Special thanks to spotandpunk my ever truthful and demanding beta! This chapter was a bear with fangs and it came out fast and furiously once it got rolling. And she wouldn't relent until I had the perfect ending. Cheers!_

_Thanks to all the newbies who've added the alerts. You're interest in our journey does not go unnoticed. _

_As always, Hugs and Enjoy!_

HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

A few days later, Cate brought home the first round of Methadone. House had agreed to give her control over the dosage and to turn over all of his Vicodin – almost as if he were a blind in a controlled study. They figured that way he wouldn't, or rather couldn't, try to self-dose which would undermine the process and possibly result in a toxicity or overdose. Only she would be able to give him pills if he needed some for breakthrough pain.

Cate knew how tough this was for him; relinquishing all control over his body to another person. He had given power to Stacey and came away with the very foundation for the dilemma they were dealing with now. He had vowed to never let anyone else make decisions about him medically or otherwise. He swore he would never allow himself to be that vulnerable again. Yet here they were. He trusted her with his life and in some regards more importantly, his pain. And if Cate was honest with herself, she had to admit that she was a little scared. She didn't want this to back fire on them. She was afraid that he would blame her and push her away when and if something went wrong. Even more so, she couldn't live with herself if he died.

Despite her fears, she knew what she was doing. She'd administered all kinds of drugs to her patients. She'd weaned people off of anti-psychotics, anti-depressants, benzos, drugs and alcohol, the whole gambit. But this was different. This was her husband, the father of her child, and the love of her life. What they were doing was supremely unethical but unfortunately the only way to get him to finally quit. Cate didn't care, however. She was doing it because she couldn't stand to see him writhe in pain and struggle with his addiction anymore. She wanted so badly to help him and for some reason he trusted her enough to let her.

Earlier that evening, they had cleared his office of all his secret Vicodin and had just swept the apartment for the usual spots. They already had a large Ziploc bag full and they hadn't even gotten to his secret, secret stash. If she let herself think about how many pills he had stored and hidden away like a little squirrel for a rainy day, she would have been overwhelmed. He had them everywhere and what was remarkable was that she had absolutely no idea. They were in the obvious places like the vanity, the night table, the kitchen and his pants and jacket pockets. But he also had them in the containers in the kitchen, the vase on the credenza, and the chest on his desk that he never sat at except for paying the bills. There were some in his sock drawer, under the mattress, in another box at the back of the closet. She bit her tongue when he opened a book from the bookshelf that had a hole cut out of it large enough to hold an amber vial. It was insane. Thank God they were doing this before the baby was born. She didn't even want to think about what could have happened if a toddler had gotten into one of his hiding places.

Cate watched him hobble around the apartment, his eyes wide in thought as he tried to rack his brain for anymore hiding spots.

"Did you check my golf bag?" he asked moving to the closet.

"No. I didn't figure you'd be into the irony," she stated as she followed him and pulled opened the plastic bag.

He emptied three more bottles in and looked at her. "I keep my canes in there, so I guess I am."

"Is that all of it?" she asked him.

"I think so," he sighed. "We did the kitchen, the bedroom, the bathroom, here. The only thing left is the Morphine."

"And the alcohol," she stated.

He pulled his lips into a tight frown. "Yeah," he grumbled. "How long before I can take another drink?"

She eyed him as they went back into the living room. "Months and months, at least. And then only like a glass of wine or a bottle of beer with dinner."

"I'm not even going to recognize myself," he groused running his hands distractedly over his head.

"Don't worry, your wit and charm have nothing to do with the drugs or the alcohol," she said tapping her hand lightly on his cheek. "You'll still be the same sarcastic son of a bitch we all know and love."

"You're damn right," he said leaning down to kiss her. "You know you love it." She stepped away from him and he patted her ass as she dipped away from him.

Giggling, she dropped the bag of pills onto the chaise and pushed the chair out of the way. "I need that stepladder from the kitchen to get the Morphine box," she told him.

"Uh, no way pregnant lady," he objected. "You're not climbing up there."

"Greg, it's only two steps," she griped at him with her hands on her hips.

"Then I can do it," he ordered, dragging her away from the shelf by the arm. "You're six months pregnant. You're not climbing up there." He disappeared into the kitchen for a second and returned with the folded ladder.

"Fine," she relented and stood back to let him open the stepladder in front of the tall bookshelf. She watched him climb up the first step and then struggle with the second because he had to put weight on his right leg. Eventually, he made it up to the third step and reached up for the box on the top shelf. Coyly, Cate moved closer to him and placed her hands to cup his denim covered rear-end to give him 'support'.

He looked down at her with an amused grin on his face. "What are you doing?"

"I'm helping," she replied.

"You're not helping," he said and jerked forward gripping onto the upper shelf to hold his balance when she tweaked his butt checks a little bit. "You're groping. Stop."

"Aw, come on," she complained, "You can't put that cute little butt in my face and not expect me to want to bite it."

"You can bite it all you want in two minutes when I'm down," he told her. She smacked his derriere with a chuckle and stood back a little bit watching him to make sure he didn't take a header backwards into the fireplace mantel. "Here, make your hands useful," he ordered, handing her down the metal lockbox. She reached up and took it from him and placed it on the coffee table. Slowly, he climbed down from the stool and folded the ladder and leaned it against the shelf. As soon as that was done, he lunged for her to return the favor of grabbing her ass but she dodged him with a giggle and took off around the other side of the coffee table.

"I'm gonna bite your sweet little baby-making ass," he threatened as he limped after her.

Squealing as he reached her, she got tangled in his arms trying to run from him but he pulled her back against his chest. He lowered his lips to her neck and trailed little nibbles down to her shoulder. A moan escaped her lips as he dragged his tongue back up her neck to the soft spot behind her ear. She closed her eyes and grabbed behind her clutching at his hips bringing him closer to her. Gently, he pushed his hand up her tank top to cup her breast and tweaked her nipple through the silk of her bra between his fingers sending rioting bolts of fire through her. God, since pregnancy her breasts were a direct conduit to her libido, lately one touch sent her into the throws of ecstasy. Hungrily, she turned around and grabbed the sides of his face pulling him down to kiss him passionately. Their playfulness escalated to an inferno of desire in a matter of seconds. His hands ran down around her back and plunged into her yoga pants to caress her rear end. Kissing her deeply, he pulled her as close as she could get to him with her rounded belly between them. Needing to feel his skin against her, she pushed her hands under his shirt and trailed her fingers up his chest and down around his back. He groaned at her as she dragged her nails down his back to his sides, flinching and letting out a chuckle when she touched the ticklish spots on his ribs.

There was a knock at the door. Cate paused tightly holding onto him as she lost her footing. His strong arms caught hold of her and he took the advantage to trail hot kisses down her neck to the dip in her cleavage.

"Greg, there's some body at the door," she murmured closing her eyes as he continued to slant his lips back up the column of her throat. "Honey… Honey!" She smacked at him and he growled lifting his head, placing her back on the floor about two feet away from him.

"Fuck," he complained looking at her with frustrated eyes. "This better be worth it," he called to the door loudly.

"Oh, it's worth it," Wilson's voice came muffled through the door.

"We have baby pictures," Cuddy's voice echoed in excited glee.

Cate stared at House who looked back at her in aggravation. They stood frozen for a second and then the panic came in a deluge.

"Oh my god! Greg, the drugs!" Cate whispered fiercely. "The drugs, the drugs, where are the drugs?"

His eyes widened. "I don't know. What'd you do with them?"

"I don't know," she hissed. They spun around frantically looking for the bag of pills.

"Holly shit, we have to get rid of them," she said through her teeth.

"I know," he grumbled looking around the sofa.

"They can't see how many pills you have," she screeched trying to be quiet.

"I fucking know!"

He moved around the sofa to the desk but they weren't there.

"_Guys, are you going to let us in?_" Wilson called.

House stared at her with his hands up. "Hurry up, Wilson has a key!"

"Say something," she mouthed as she looked on the floor by the end table.

"We're naked," he called loudly.

Standing up, she stared at him with her mouth open. He shrugged and narrowed his eyebrows, "Just find the drugs."

"_We can go if you're busy_," Wilson said reluctantly, making Cate feel terrible.

"No! Just a minute," she yelled. House shot her a glare because she'd just ruined their out. But she turned quickly and spied the Ziploc on the chaise. "Here," she whispered tossing him the bag.

"What am I going to do with them?"

"Hide them!"

"Where? It's not like it'll fit in my pocket!"

"I don't know! Put them in the closet," she hissed.

Quickly, he hobbled over to the closet door. Cate put her hands on her forehead, stressed out. "Why do I feel like we're in _Goodfellas_ and the FBI's coming through the door any second?"

He laughed. "_Don't flush the drugs, Karen_!" he quoted mimicking Ray Liotta's trashy New Jersey accent, knowing exactly which scene she was talking about. Cate giggled at the absurdity of it all.

"Hurry up," she rushed.

He tossed the bag into the closet and it exploded as it hit something in the back. "FUCK!"

Cate cringed as she heard two hundred loose little pills tick, tick, click their way down to the floor like a candy dispenser at the supermarket. "Shit!"

One lone pill came sailing out across the floor to hit him square on the toe. Cate rushed over to him as he picked it up. He held it up in front of his face like a precious diamond and whimpered at her.

"Just put it in there," she ordered sternly.

He turned and tossed it in. "Don't be scared. Daddy still loves you."

"No you don't," she said slamming the door closed and pushing him toward the front door. "You're giving them up for adoption."

"You are a cruel, evil woman, you know that?" he griped at her as he put his hand on the doorknob swinging the door open.

They both pasted on cheery smiles and stared at Wilson and Cuddy.

"Hello…" they greeted in saccharine unison.

Wilson and Cuddy stared back at them oddly with hesitant smiles on their faces. House linked his arms around her waist and pulled her with him as he stepped out of the way to let their guests come in.

"You're breathing heavy," Wilson noticed.

"I told you we were naked," House grumbled.

"If you were having sex, we could have just gone," Cuddy said with a sympathetic look toward Cate.

Cate rolled her eyes, "We weren't having sex."

"Then why are you both breathing heavy," Wilson asked.

"Pre-natal yoga," Cate said as the first thing popped into her head.

"Pre-natal yoga's supposed to be gentle," Cuddy said looking at her like she'd lost her mind.

"Not when its on fast-forward," Cate answered her dumbly.

"Because we were going to have sex," House added.

Cate rolled her eyes and jabbed him in the stomach with her elbow. "Will you stop," she griped at him and turned to Cuddy. "Come, let's sit. You said you have baby pictures?"

Cuddy beamed and followed her to the sofa. Sitting down, she dug into her purse and pulled out three photos. Cate sat next to her as Wilson leaned on the arm of the sofa peering over her shoulder. House moved to the push the chaise lounge back where it belonged by the bookcase.

"Look at how beautiful she is," Cuddy cooed as she handed Cate the photos.

"_She_? You said _she_. You're going to have a little girl?" Cate exclaimed before even looking at the pictures. "Oh Lisa." She pulled Cuddy into her arms to give her a tight hug. "That's wonderful!"

"We're so excited," Wilson said, his voice thick with resounding amazement.

House frowned and actually pushed his lip out in a pout. "How come they get to have a girl? That's so not fair."

Cate turned and looked at him with a bemused expression on her face. "Because sweetheart, you're little Y sperm are overachievers and swim faster than his."

"Maybe we can trade," he sulked.

"I don't think so," Cate chuckled. "You'll get over it."

He rolled his eyes at her and she turned her attention to the photos in her hand. They were images from Cuddy's 3D sonogram. She could see the baby's face as if the photos were taken with a real live camera.

Cate's eyes welled up and she looked at her friend. "Oh my God! You can see her eyes and nose and little lips." She traced her finger along the little bow of the baby's lips as a tear ran down the side of her nose. "Greg, look at this. This is so amazing. Why don't we have pictures of our baby like this?"

"Because your doctor sucks," he said matter-of-factly, limping over to take one of the pictures from her. "Wow! Are you sure this is your kid Wilson? She's prettier than both of you combined."

Wilson took the picture from him. "Yes, she's my kid," he grumbled in irritation.

"Honey, I want to see our baby like that," Cate looked at him again beseechingly.

He stared at her in contempt for competiveness and then melted, rolling his eyes when she pouted at him blinking her eyelashes. "Put it on the list of things to do."

They looked at each other and then at the same time noticed that the metal lock box containing something like four bottles of Morphine and a bunch of syringes that was sitting in the open on the coffee table. Their eyes locked in panic again trying to communicate imperceptibly as to what they should do. She looked at it. He looked at it. She quirked the corner of her mouth. He shrugged his eyebrows.

"So I think this deserves a toast," Wilson announced. They both looked at Wilson eyes wide and eyebrows raised. "I'm sure you have wine or something?"

House let out a stilted laugh. "Ha! Do we have wine? Does a bear shit in the woods?"

"And you and I can have juice," Cuddy said readily.

"Excellent," Cate agreed cordially, standing.

"Babe, you want to come to the kitchen and help me _pour the wine_," he ground out through his teeth that he had set into a creepy, cheerful smile.

"Sure, darling," she said hurrying over to him and following him into the kitchen. They could hear Wilson and Cuddy murmuring in whispers in the living room as they did the same in the kitchen.

"What are we going to do about the box?" she whispered taking her blended fruit juice out of the refrigerator.

He grabbed a bottle of wine from the rack on the counter and looked at it disappointingly. "They can't see in it, so unless they decide to safe-crack it I'm sure it's no big deal."

"I can't believe we're doing this," she said quietly taking out four wine glasses.

"I can't believe I'm going to have to pour a glass of wine and not be able to drink it," he groused. "He's gonna notice."

"Just sip a little and then put it down," she told him.

"Oh, yeah, so easy for you to say," he griped.

She rested her hand on his arm and looked into his eyes. "You can do this."

Taking a deep breath, he uncorked the wine and poured out two scant servings of the Merlot. Cate poured some juice for Lisa and her and they took the glasses back into the living room.

Distributing the beverages, they stood by their respective partners and held their wineglass up in toast.

"Here's to good friends," Wilson exalted.

"And beautiful healthy children," Cuddy added.

"Good whatever and kids," House murmured.

"Beautiful babies and dear friends," Cate amended giving him a look.

"Here, here," Wilson finished.

They all clinked in toast and drank. Cate watched House over the rim of her glass. He pretended to drink letting the wine enter his mouth, savoring it for a quick taste and sloshing it back in without swallowing. She winked at him proud of him for being a trooper. They finished their toast. House quickly relived himself of his glass on the coffee table and clapped his hands together in a rush. "Ok then…" he pressed trying to get them to leave.

However, they didn't take the hint Cuddy and Wilson sat back down on the couch making themselves comfortable. Cate saw House roll his eyes and she pinched him making him slump miserably down into the armchair next to the sofa. She perched herself on the flat arm next to him and placed her hand along the back of his shoulders to keep him in check. He was starting to get extremely agitated by their friends' presence.

"So, tell us about this incredible house. James said you signed papers the other night," Cuddy inquired holding onto her wine glass with juice. "Where is it? How many bedrooms? Big bathroom? Walk-in closet?" Cuddy pestered.

"Huge walk-in closet. It's like a dressing room," Cate gushed. "There's even a display shelf for my shoes!"

Cuddy let out a moan as her jaw dropped in supreme envy. "Oh my god!"

"Ecstasy over shoes, isn't that a deviant fetish?" House grumbled from beside her.

"You underestimate the importance of the shoe in woman's emotional stability," Wilson stated.

"Apparently," he muttered. "More importantly, there's a pool table!"

Now Wilson let out a moan and dropped his jaw in envy.

"With a bar," he added.

The head tilted to the side.

"And a kegerater out back by the barbeque."

The eyes boggled.

"See, it's all in what gets you off," Cuddy muttered.

"Shoes and good clothes and a place to put them where they're not jammed into a tiny closet like poor little orphaned children are important to women," Cate declared. Her mind wandered back to the tiny closet they had now, jam packed full of stuff and two hundred Vicodin pills littered all over the floor. That was going to be a chore and a half to clean up tonight. _If they ever got out of there._

"Greasy meat grilling, beer pumping and games with sticks is what is important to cavemen," Cuddy declared running her hand over her perfectly rounded belly.

"And your point is?" House shrugged. "Now if you add women in stiletto heals in bustiers then it's the best of both worlds."

"Amen," Wilson held up his wine glass in another toast to House who just sat with his hands white knuckling the arms of the chair instead.

"I rest my case," Cuddy said waving her hand dismissively.

"You're not drinking?" Wilson inquired at House, but it came out more like an accusation than a question.

House flashed a look at her that clearly stated 'I told you so'. He turned to Wilson, "I had like four glasses of wine with dinner and 'little Greg' needs to be ready for action if you know what I mean." He punctuated his lie with a huge wink and Wilson looked at him like he'd grown two heads.

"You don't have that problem," he scoffed. "I have that problem, but you don't."

Cuddy made a face at him and tapped him on the chest with the backs of her knuckles looking at Cate in embarrassed misery.

"How do you know he doesn't have that problem?" Cate asked Wilson defensively.

"We talk," Wilson stated snorting in a huff.

"Apparently about everything," Cuddy said.

"You two are… acting weird," Wilson said suspiciously, cluing in.

"No we're not," they both said in unison.

"See," he accused pointing a finger and look at Cuddy for support. "I told you there was something up."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Cate denied.

"There's nothing up," House grunted flatly. "I just don't feel like having wine."

"Ha! The day you don't feel like having a drink is the day that the sky opens up and the heavens will rain down frogs and brimstone," Wilson declared incredulously.

House stood up swiftly. "Get out your umbrella because we're done here."

Cate looked to Wilson and Cuddy and then at House. Wilson put his hands up and stood. "Fine. We'll be out of your hair." He held his hand out to help Cuddy off the sofa.

They moved quickly to the door and Wilson turned. "Don't think I won't figure it out."

"Yup, bye-bye now," House stated curtly.

"Bye, Lisa, I'll see you tomorrow," Cate said gently. They hugged briefly and she closed the door behind them. "What the fuck was that all about?" she turned to him angrily.

"I told you he'd notice," he growled picking up the wine glasses and hobbling into the kitchen. He threw them both into the sink with a crash, shattering the glass in a splash of deep crimson wine. Cate closed her eyes and took in a steadying breath. Okay, he had just lost the last bit of his patience. He leaned his hands heavily on the counter griping it for strength. Carefully, she came up behind him and ran her hands soothingly along his back rubbing the tension from his shoulders. Wrapping her arms around him, she pressed her face against the warmth of his shirt and sighed.

"I know how difficult this is, " she said. "You're gong to be fine. I promise."

His breathing slowed to long even strokes and he turned around to hold her against him.

Cate nuzzled into him. "It's the first day. One step at a time, ok?"

"That's such bullshit," he said. "I don't want to hear that line of crap."

"It's the truth," she told him pulling back to look in his eyes. "One challenge at a time, one day at a time, maybe even one second at a time. Every time you make it through an obstacle, it will get easier."

He sighed heavily and looked up at the ceiling swallowing, his Adam's apple moving roughly in his throat. "I hate not being in control. I need those pills."

"I know," Cate soothed. "But think of it this way, you're doing this so you can be in control for the rest of your life."

"More platitudes," he said with a rueful smirk.

"Sometimes they work," she said. Patting his shoulder, she smiled. "Come on, I need you to move all of the heavy shit out of the closet so I can get rid of every last bit of temptation."

"You better take every last one of those tiny little orphans to foster care because after that whole mess I want to suck them down like there's no tomorrow," he told her as he squeezed her tightly to him.

Cate laughed against his chest inhaling in the scent of him. "God what a night!"

"You're telling me!" He griped. "I can't even get high to make it go away anymore!"

Cate lifted her chin and kissed his neck smiling against his skin. "I know another way you can take you mind off of it…"

"True," he agreed. "But not while I know there's half a year's worth of pills at the bottom of the closet."

"I promise that if you do the heavy lifting, I'll make it worth your while," she bargained. He eyed her dubiously so she upped the ante. "I'll be done faster than you can limp your sexy butt back into the bedroom and get naked on the bed."

"You're on lady…"


	34. Chapter 34: Revelations

Sessions II – Nine Months

Chapter 34: Revelations

The following week had proceeded better than Cate had expected after the nightmare of clearing out House's drug stash. Never in her life did she expect to be doing that in her own home, but she had, and willingly so. She had disposed of the drugs properly the very next day by crushing up the pills and mixing them with Sexy Kitty's used cat litter before throwing it in the trash so he couldn't snort whatever what left. It was a sad fact that she had to go to such lengths, but his addiction was at a near all-time high. And after that debacle with the Wilsons it was a necessary evil. House had avoided both of them for the better part of the remainder of the week. He was stressed, but he had been doing as well as could be expected.

They had managed to fully wean him from the Vicodin and had arrived at a stable dosage of Methadone that seemed to manage his pain for sustained periods of time. It was not an easy road. At first he was caustically difficult, short tempered and snappish because of the habitual mode he was in. But as she increased the dose, his pain was becoming more manageable and his temper was leveling off as he became used to not having control over his medication. He hadn't had any periods of respiratory distress, sleep apnea or decreased lung function. Cate was keeping her fingers crossed that they were in the home stretch to finding his forever dosage. His mood was a little improved but he was pretty much the same curmudgeonly old House and that ironically was a relief.

Cate had seen him more this week than she had since they came back from their honeymoon. He had been in her office three times a day for his medication and she had stayed up every night until well past midnight so she could monitor his breathing. Frankly, she loved him dearly, but it was way too much House even for her. Seeking a little respite, she had recruited Blythe to shop for baby furniture with her.

"What do you think of this one, dear?" Blythe asked her as she led her over to a white crib that had small delicate wooden slats all around.

"It's very pretty," Cate said touching the rails. "What other colors does it come in?"

Blythe meandered over to another crib that looked the same but in an ash color. "Appears to be that white, blonde and a dark brown stain."

"I think I like the dark wood," Cate said as she came around to the other choice, touching her hand to the shelf of her belly as she walked. "It seems very classic."

"Yes, indeed," Blythe agreed. "The white is very nice but I think it would be better for a girl."

"I agree," Cate nodded. "I am under strict orders to keep it 'manly'," she relayed mimicking his voice and tweaking her fingers in air-quotes.

Blythe chuckled and shook her head. "He spent his whole life rebelling against what his father's ideal of man was and now he's putting the same restrictions on his own son. They are not as different as he would like himself to believe."

Cate stood back for a second to regard her mother in law. She was a little offended that his mother would categorize him as the same as his father, because from the horrible things he had told her about him, Greg was nothing like him at all. "How is that Blythe? How are they anywhere close to being the same?"

Blythe turned to her and blinked, momentarily stunned by the harshness of Cate's tone. And then it came, the reserved, polite face that smoothed over and fixed everything. Cate had seen it happen before with other women who were in abusive situations but this was remarkable. This one was harder to take because it was personal. "Gregory and John were both too stubborn to admit when they were wrong. John was strict but Gregory pushed in ways that were meant to provoke."

Cate stepped toward her, her mouth open in shock. "When he was eight? What could he have possibly done to provoke a broken arm?"

"That was an accident." Blythe swallowed and set her chin firmly. "He was running in the upstairs hall."

"Away from his father's punishment," Cate declared vehemently.

"He was reprimanding him for leaving a mess in the bathroom sink," Blythe excused.

"By scalding him with hot running tap water?" Cate questioned fiercely.

"No, no… he was teaching him how to clean it properly," Blythe spoke in desperation, her eyes becoming a dark shade of slate blue.

"No Blythe," Cate forged on. "He was holding his hand under the hot water, burning him to teach him a lesson. Greg ran away and when John caught up to him he grabbed him by the arm and threw him into the banister."

"No…no, that's not…" she stammered, her eyes wide with confusion and fear.

"Yes, he pushed him so hard that it broke his humerus, do you know what that is?" she pressed. "That's the upper bone of the arm. It's not that easy to break unless you hit it really hard."

"No. He fell down the stairs," Blythe professed.

"No. Blythe, he didn't fall down the stairs, John pushed him against the newel on the banister and broke his arm."

Tears sprung to Blythe's eyes as she covered her mouth with her hand. "No, that's not what John told me happened." Blindly, she stumbled backward to sit on the rocking chair behind her. "John said that he fell." Se looked at her searchingly. "Greg said that he fell."

Cate watched the older woman begin to cry. She rolled her eyes heavenward and took a deep breath. _My God what was it with this family and the huge revelations in the middle of stores? Why couldn't they be like the Irish and just keep it inside until they got home, like her father did? _ Cate was flabbergasted. This woman really had no idea what had taken place under her own roof. "Blythe, where were you when this happened?"

She shook her head. "At my girlfriend's house, I believe," she said trying to recall. "She had just had a baby. And her husband was _in country_." Her voice was low and uncertain. "She needed help. I…" she trailed off and looked desperately at Cate. "John lied to me?"

"Yes," Cate said gravely wondering how many things the woman had no idea about.

"And when Greg fell off his bike and split his forehead open?" she asked.

Cate sighed and frowned sadly at her. "John pushed his face into the garage door for getting into a fight with a boy at the playground," she told her.

"And the burn on his arm from lighting a camp fire in the back yard?" the older woman's voice took on a desperation that broke Cate's heart.

Cate inhaled a deep breath. How she could have turned such a blind eye to what was going on? "John took the lighter and held it under his arm to prove to him how dangerous it was to play with fire."

Blythe sobbed, overwhelmed with the news she was hearing. "Oh dear god, how could I have been so stupid? How could I have let him do those things to my boy?"

Cate sat down on the ottoman in front of her. She felt for the woman, to finally have this realization hit her so suddenly but she didn't want to absolve her of all responsibility. She should have known. She should have protected him. "Did John ever hit you?"

"No, never," she said.

"Was he verbally abusive?"

"No, he was harsh sometimes, but who doesn't say things that are cruel that they don't mean?" she said as realization dawned on her. "He was harshest with Greg, stern and inflexible. Greg was always precocious. That I did see, he would do things, experiment with tools and chemicals. Build things that would catch fire, get into arguments with kids in the neighborhood because they didn't think as fast as him. He had trouble in school because he was bored and I could never keep him occupied enough. He was always looking for more. He was happiest when John was not home, and when we lived in Egypt and Japan because he could immerse himself in the culture and learn all sorts of new and interesting things. I never knew what to do for him," Blythe breathed an emotional sigh as the words continue to tumble from her mouth. "I always thought that John was how he was because he was a Marine because I had grown up around military people. John was how my father was. I never expected that he would do those things to anyone especially to Greg. Oh Cate," her voice caught in her throat as she choked on the emotion welling up inside her. "Does he blame me?"

Cate looked at her hands for a moment and placed one on her mother-in-law's trembling hand to reassure her. She was so angry for Greg, but she couldn't blame Blythe. She was lied to and kept in the dark. The psychiatrist in her knew that this was classic denial, that his mother was blind to it because she couldn't face the reality of what was happening in her home, so she lived in oblivion, comforted by her ignorance. Cate supposed that Greg knew that too, which is why he protected from the truth, keeping up the lies that his father created. "No," she said gently. "He doesn't blame you. He loves you."

Blythe cried tears of relief and squeezed Cate's hand as a tether to reality and something stable. "I'm so sorry. I have to tell him I'm sorry."

Cate shook her head. "No. You can't."

"Why?" she pleaded.

"Because," Cate began and then paused on a breath, "I need to tell you something."

Blythe looked at her in dismay. "Oh dear! What more can you tell me? What more don't I know?"

"Greg is going through some major changes right now," she explained. "We are trying him on a drug called Methadone to fight his pain and…" she paused and looked at his mother seriously, "his addiction to Vicodin."

She looked at her with searching eyes. "This is a good thing, correct?"

"Yes, it's a very good thing," Cate told her. "You do know that he has a very serious addiction to these pain killers, right?"

Blythe nodded on a weary sigh. "Yes, that I do know. He has always had a little problem with drugs."

Cate blinked at her in surprise. Yet another revelation. His mother had no idea about the abuse that went on under her nose but she'd known all along that her son was a drug addict. "What do you mean?"

"When he was a teenager, he and his friends would smoke that awful marijuana in the basement," she began. "I used to have to burn candles and open up the windows to get rid of the smell before John would come home."

"Oh my God, Blythe!" Cate exclaimed and pressed her hand to her forehead. Cate couldn't belief the level of dysfunction in the House household. It took the term to new heights.

Blythe chuckled as she dug into her purse for a tissue to dab at her eyes. "Of all the things that boy did when he was a teenager, smoking that marijuana in the basement was the least of his trespasses, quite literally, I tell you. At least, I knew where he was." She sighed and took out her compact to check her face. "I spent more time picking him up from the police station and explaining his actions to his school principal then I care to remember." She sighed and looked at Cate sadly. "I see now that it was his way of rebelling against his father for years of not being able to fight back. I am a horrible mother. Do not ever be like me."

Cate shook her head. "No, Blythe, you did what you had to do with the resources you had and because you loved your son. That's all." It didn't excuse what had happened but much of it was not her fault.

The woman she had come to love smiled at her and touched her hand delicately to Cate's cheek. "You are a Godsend, my dear. I am so, so grateful that he found you."

Cate smiled and pressed her hand to hers. "I'm glad he found me too."

Blythe sighed with finality and tapped her hands against her lap. "Now, dear, enough of this maudlin discussion of the past." The fixer was back in full swing. Dabbed mascara and a little face powder and all was right with the world again. She sniffed a moment taking in a fortifying breath and stood. "We are here to find furniture for my adorable little grandbaby, which is a decidedly more joyous event. A fresh start for everyone." She tucked her tissue back into her purse and forced herself to smile. "I saw the most darling little basinet over there when we walked in. Let us go see if that is something you'd like for the early months, what do you say?"

Cate frowned to herself knowing that whatever revelations had just occurred were swept completely under the carpet never to be discussed again. Maybe they were a little closer to the Irish, after all. Shaking her head, she rose slowly hoisting her awkward body off of the low footrest. The bigger her belly got the harder it was to do simple things like stand. Making a mental note, she actually liked the chair Blythe had just vacated. It was upholstered and comfortable and looked like it would be excellent for breast-feeding. "I say you are right. Take me to this adorable basinet."

Following Blythe over to another room set-up, she laid eyes on the exact basinet that Blythe was talking about. The woman was indeed correct. It was darling.

"Oh Blythe, this is beautiful," she said moving her hand over the basket woven top that arced over where the baby's head would go. The entire cradle was woven out of dark espresso toned rattan. The inside was decorated thin padded bumpers tied in an adorable fashion to the edge to make it soft and cozy. There was a long, floor-length skirt that covered a shelf for essentials, like diapers and creams, and rails for rocking when the baby needed a little help sleeping. It was sweet and beautiful and everything she could have dreamed for her little boy.

"I though you would like it," her mother-in-law said, fingering the delicate quilt embroidered in little blue flowers.

Cate smiled as she thought about putting their son in there to sleep next to their bed so he could be near them. She imagined House holding her close to him while they slept with their baby just a few feet from them in that adorable little basinet. Tears came to her eyes and Blythe came to place her arm over her shoulders to give her a gentle squeeze. "Let's get it."

"Definitely," Cate said, sniffing and laughing at herself. "And let's find the rest of this furniture before I start crying like a blubbering idiot. I think we House's need to stay away from furniture stores for a while. Too much happens here."

They made fast work of selecting the remaining furniture for the nursery. They chose a dark espresso stained sleigh style crib with a delicate scroll on the ends. They found a low six drawer dresser to match and went back to get the upholstered rocking chair in a matching dark chocolate corduroy slipcover. It was a lot of dark furniture but Cate liked the contrast against the butter yellow of the walls and the brightly colored blue bedding that had little trains on the bumpers that went round the crib. They checked out and set a delivery date for the end of the month. Bonnie had told them that was when they would be ready to start moving things in once they'd closed on the house.

Cate and Blythe walked back to the car and drove over to a restaurant for some desperately needed food. It was nearing lunchtime and Cate was once again starving. They sat at a small table and looked through the menus deciding what they would order.

"Tell me dear, this medicine that Gregory is on. It will help his pain?" Blythe asked her after they placed their order.

"Yes," Cate said. "It works the same as the Vicodin but doesn't have the opiate effects."

"What does that mean?" she inquired.

"It means that he can't get high from it," she explained plainly. If his mother knew about the drugs, then she could be frank with the discussion of his addiction.

"Oh, well that certainly is good," Blythe stated.

"Yes, but just so you know, they use it to help people with addictions to heroin so it has a stigma attached to it that is undesirable, especially for a doctor, and one of his caliber."

"Oh," she repeated, this time a little less enthusiastically. "Well, I suppose that it's necessary if you both agreed that it was something he should do."

"It's good for many reasons," Cate said. "He can manage his addiction because he can take medication that still helps his pain. His pain will never be gone permanently, but the other drugs, even this one when you try to get off of them, make the pain worse. At least with this one, we can do it in a way that is slow and manageable because the emotional addiction isn't there."

"But if he needs it for his pain" she questioned, "Why would you need to do that?"

"The reason to try to come off of it is to see how much pain he really has and how much of it was because of the drugs or psychosomatic."

"So some of what he experiences could be his own mind," Blythe ask curiously.

"Possibly," Cate said. "I believe that his pain is very real. He had a large part of his thigh removed. It's a nerve pain that amputees experience and that can be very debilitating but I think the severity of it might be skewed because of his addiction. It's entirely possible that he could have lived without the drugs all these years if he had rehabilitated his leg the way he was supposed to instead of relying on the drugs. But at that time, his emotional state was too fragile and he fell into the pattern of covering it up with how the drugs made him feel."

Blythe nodded knowingly. "Yes, I can see how that could have happened. He doesn't ever tackle anything in the emotional realm head on."

"He's starting to," Cate told her.

"Only because of you," Blythe said.

"Maybe," Cate said. "It's possible that's because I don't judge him and he feels safe. But I won't take full credit for it. He has done a lot of this on his own without me."

Blythe shook her head. "No, you make him stronger. You do accept him for who he is, good and bad. And that makes him trust you. With Stacey, she was never satisfied with what he could give. She always wanted more from him. But he was younger then. His ego was enormous."

Cate chuckled. "His ego's still enormous."

"Yes, indeed," Blythe laughed. "But he was caught up in what he could get out of life, where his career would take him. He loved her, but she was secondary to the hospital."

"He doesn't talk about her," Cate said.

"I don't image that he would, she hurt him terribly," his mother commented, revealing the pain of her son's heartbreak in her eyes.

"I mean, I know what happened, but he never talks about before, the good times they had together," she said. "She lived with him for five years. There had to be some good times. What was she like?"

"There were," she expounded. "She was a very lovely woman. Intelligent, strong, independent. She loved him deeply, but she was a little hard to get close to. She wasn't open and sometimes she could be a little abrasive, just like him. Though I have to say, that she was always polite to me."

Cate sipped her water and looked around. She had never met Stacey, nor did she think that she ever would, but she was curious as to what his former lover was like. She was intrigued by this woman who had shaped his existence so drastically. Cate supposed she would have to be content to know that she herself was the one he had opened up to, the one who he had healed for and the one he married and decided to have a baby with. "Do you ever think that if, his leg hadn't happened, that they'd still be together? That she'd be the one he'd marry?"

"No," Blythe shook her head. "He wasn't the marrying kind. They were committed to each other, but it was like a business partnership and he was perfectly content to keep it that way."

"Then why do you think he married me?"

"Because, he's a different person now, he's more vulnerable. He feels much more deeply now than he ever did," Blythe told her. "You complete him."

Cate thought about this for a moment. She loved him so much to the point that she knew she could never go back to the way that she was before him. He may have relied on her for his emotional strength but she knew in her heart that he had opened up a stability in her that she never knew she had. In her profession, some would call the relationship that they had co-dependent and enabling, but she didn't see it that way. They brought out the best in each other and filled in the gaps of the traits they were missing. They balanced each other and yes, they completed each other. He gave her a sense of home and grounding, a place to belong and feel special. She gave him stability, support and acceptance. Together they were solid. And apart, they were stronger for it.

Their lunch came and they ate discussing the whens and hows of the closing of the house. They talked about what sorts of things that still needed to be done, such as buying a new sofa and possibly a new dining set, but Cate didn't want to go into any furniture store with either one of them anytime soon. No, she'd put that off for a while lest they discover another disturbing revelation about themselves. She had had quite enough of those for this month.

They finished lunch and walked out to Cate's Range Rover. As they climbed into the truck, Blythe looked at her watched. "Oh dear me, we'll will have to call it a day, sweetheart. I have a date to get ready for."

Turning the engine over, Cate peered at her mother in law with a wry little smirk on her face. "A date?"

"Yes, darling a date," she said in her motherly tone. "And you could tell my inquisitive son that he can keep his nose in his own business."

Cate smirked as she pulled out on the highway to take Blythe back to her condo. "You know, he thinks you've been seeing his biological father."

Blythe let out an airy chuckle. "Well he's right. I have seen Paul."

Cate stared at her for a second and then had to remind herself to look at the road. _Oh my god, he was going to give birth to a litter of kittens when he found out this little tidbit of information_. "You've seen him or _have been_ seeing him?"

"I have seen him a couple of times," she told her more directly. "We have had dinner and caught up on our lives."

"Oh," was all Cate could say currently. She wanted to ask her just how much they've caught up on but she didn't want to intrude since she had instructed her to warn Greg off of pursuing the issue. "Are you seeing him tonight?"

Blythe merely laughed at her. "You two are a match made in Heaven, my darling."

HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

_A/N: Back from vacation dear readers! Relaxed and a nice shade of ecru instead of paper white! Maybe even go so far as to say beige! Anyway… This chapter took a more dramatic turn then I had originally intended. I had Blythe absent-mindedly comparing House to John and I could not let Cate stand there with that going unnoticed. But it made sense and needed to be addressed. I had skirted around the abuse issue without really discussing what might have taken place. Never having experienced anything of the sort, I found it difficult to understand how House could still be as close to his mother as he is, so I needed to concoct a story to make it believable that she didn't really know. I hope it does it justice and is believable…_ _It's good to be back. I need to get this story moving and get this baby out! I feel like she's been pregnant FOREVER!_


	35. Chapter 35: Stride

Sessions – Nine Months

Chapter 35: Stride

Cate had returned from her excursion to the furniture store with his mother much earlier than House had expected. He had spent the better part of the day taking care of the necessary evils of laundry and the bills and was resting on the couch when she walked through the door with a stack of receipts in her hand. He could only imagine the small fortune she had spent on their wee little one and the thing wasn't even born yet. Never mind the other pieces of furniture they needed to buy to fill this extra large house he insisted they needed.

The closing was just a month away and they had also yet to start the excavation process of the apartment. They decided there was no better time like the present to organize of the closet of doom. Actually Cate had decided; he was sort of just along for the ride.

The night of the big 'drug bust', they didn't have the time or the inclination to actually sort through the contents and 'keep', 'sell', or 'toss' the crap he'd stored in the bowels of that closet over the past ten years because she had so coquettishly bribed him with sex. Today was a different story. She had blackmailed him with good information about his mother and her mysterious behavior of late in order to get him to agree to a cleaning spree, and damned if he wasn't curious enough to go for it. They were in the process of making piles of coats and shoes to donate to the local PBA clothing drive.

"So are you going to tell me what my mother said or do I have to wait until we finish here?"

From her little camping spot on the floor, Cate held up a pair of running shoes he'd worn back when Clinton was President and he shook his head at them. "Well," she started, "the reason I'm back so early is because your mother has a date tonight."

"What?" he stared at her clutching a golf club in his hands. "A date?"

"Yep, a date," she repeated dumping the shoes into the pile to her right.

"With who?" He inquired dropping the head of the club to the floor. He putted an imaginary ball down the hallway swinging it gently in the confined space. Shaking his head he sighed; he missed golfing a lot.

"Well, she distinctly told me to tell you to keep your nose out of her business," she relayed saucily as she held up another pair of sneakers.

Distracted, he waved those into the pile of discards as well and peered at her. "What the hell? That means it's someone she doesn't want me to know about?"

"You would think, right?" Cate agreed. "But then she drops this bomb…"

Resting the head of the driver onto the floor, he placed both of his hands on top of the end of the shaft, casually shifting his weight to the right as he waited for her to continue the rest of the story.

"She tells me she's seen your real father, on a couple of occasions."

"What?!" he exclaimed. If he wasn't holding onto the golf club, he would have fallen over in shock. "She's seen him! A couple of times! Are you fucking kidding me?"

"I kid you not," she said. "And when I asked her who she was seeing tonight, she laughed at me."

House stalked around the tiny space between the piles of coat and shoes and her legs akimbo on the floor in between. "She's seeing my father, for dinner, tonight?!"

"I would assume so," Cate surmised with a helpless little shrug and a laugh on her lips.

House stopped mid-pace to stare at her. "What do you think is so funny about this?"

"Because I knew you'd react like this," she stated. "You're beside yourself because your mother hid something from you again. And you can't stand it."

"You're damn right," he objected. "The human polygraph who wouldn't let me get away with anything the minute I turned thirteen, hides the biggest secret of them all and now she's wining and dining with the guy who knocked her up while she was a married woman, not that my bastard father didn't deserve it but, come on!"

Sheepishly, Cate frowned at him. "Oh yeah, she also had a little melt down in the Crate and Barrel when I got a tiny bit carried away and might have shed some light on…" she hedged a bit and grimaced before finishing, "… the abuse you went through as a child."

House reeled back and stared at her. "What? You told her that? What the fuck Cate?"

Trapped like a wounded seal by her belly and shifted center of gravity, Cate went to get up but sat back down in her position on the floor with a disgruntled huff. "I had no choice," she looked up at him awkwardly. "She called you and your father the same and I had to defend you. It just came out."

He rolled his eyes at her and then looked at her for a second. "What did she say? How much did you tell her?"

"A lot. She said that she was an awful mother because she didn't know, because she believed him," she shrugged.

"He lied to her. I lied to her because she didn't need to know," he said in a small voice.

"Greg, she had to have had some inkling. Denial and avoidance is what really kept her in the dark all these years," Cate told him. He knew this was probably true but he liked to believe that she was protected from it. Somehow it hurt less to believe that she didn't know what was happening to him, that she was incapable of stopping it.

Sexy Kitty emerged from her sleeping spot for the day and tiptoed around them right in the middle of their workspace. She rubbed her body against his shin, in and out of his legs and he could practically hear her purring. Cate held her hand out to pet the cat softly behind the ears. Kitty, quickly abandoned him for Cate, she positioned herself to be the most in the way she could possibly be and then curled up in between Cate's legs as if she were lying on the Queen's throne.

"Your mother's afraid that you blame her," Cate told him gently. Uncomfortable with the cat between her outstretched legs, Cate lifted the animal and crossed her legs to reposition.

"I don't blame her," he said opening up the large black trash bag for Cate to start filling with the donation clothing. "It wasn't her fault."

"I told her that," Cate said working around her fuzzy lap partner.

"Did she believe you?"

"I think so," she said picking up a pair of sneakers to toss in. One missed the bag and fell to the floor upside down. A lone Vicodin pill skittered to the floor with a click that echoed in House's ears like the call of the wild. _Ohhhh, yes_…

Sexy Kitty heard it too and she immediately hopped off of Cate's knees. Enticed by a new and exciting toy, the cat stuck out her paw and batted the capsule down the hallway. In a flash of fur and a tiny white streak, House's salvation skipped down the surface of the hardwood like a pearl on ice. It was the most glorious thing he'd seen in over a week.

House sped after the little cat determined to get to the pill first before she lost it under a piece of furniture.

"Greg!" Cate exclaimed, struggling to get up. "Greg! Stop!"

Within seconds, House caught up to the cat and shooed her out of the way. He picked up the pill from the floor and held it in the palm of his hand staring at it. He could all but taste its bitterness, vividly recalling the feeling of warmth and numbness as it would take its effect. He could hear its siren song calling him, begging him to put it in his mouth and swallow it.

"Greg don't," she warned, coming up to him out of breath.

In a daze, he looked at her and back at the pill and then back at her. With all of the drama unfolding around him, he wanted that familiar deadening so badly he could almost feel it in his bones. His eyes found hers as if he was seeking her approval but knew he wasn't going to get it. What he got confused him. She wasn't angry or concerned. She was smiling with tears in her eyes. He blinked in uncertainty. "What?"

"You walked down the hallway," she said in wonder.

He stared back at her perplexed. What the hell was she talking about? He had a Vicodin pill in his hand and he wanted to chew on it to taste its bitter remembrance.

"You _walked_ down the hallway," she repeated more vehemently in joy.

"I what?" She was the one who was crazy, not him.

"You walked," she said placing her hand on his arm, staying his pursuit and took the Vicodin from his palm. He almost grabbed her wrist to take it back but her words stopped him. "Sweetheart, you didn't just limp down the hallway, you walked!"

He let out a breath beginning to realize what she was saying. Really beginning to notice for the first time, since the Ketamine after being shot, he wasn't in pain. He reeled back stunned.

"You see?" she said happily launching herself into his arms and kissing him with pure happiness. "Your pain is gone."

House took in a deep and steady breath. His hands circled around the side of their baby to pull her to him in a secure, loving embrace. He had been feeling no pain for the last few days but he had been too afraid to acknowledge it because he had been through the disappointment of its eventual return before. With each dosage, he had been gradually feeling less and less of the bone-crushing ache that had consumed him for the last nine years. He was able to move his leg more fully, stretch it further and put weight on it without it sending a firestorm of agony through him. He had wanted to tell her so many times but he didn't want to get her hopes up. He didn't want to get his own hopes up because he knew the let down was much worse. So he kept quiet to see just how much it was really improving. Apparently it was enough to let him walk unencumbered, so much so that he hadn't even realized it.

House let go of her and placed his weight gingerly on his leg at first and then gradually he increased the pressure more and more until he was able to lift his left foot off the floor and balance solely on his right foot. His knee gave out after a few seconds from lack of use, unable to handle that kind of strain, but she was right. His leg felt good. No pain when he stood, no pain when he walked. He took a few more steps down the hallway turned and walked back to her without his cane. He was mobile, if not a little awkward, and out of pain. For real.

"It worked," he said in disbelief.

Cate smiled at him and came to hug him again. "It worked."

"Flush that pill," he told her, "I don't want it."

Stepping out of his arms, she went into the bathroom and immediately flushed the pill down the toilet. He heard the water gurgle out of the commode feeling like his past was finally leaving him open to new, fresh possibilities. It was scary and exhilarating at the same time and he wasn't really sure what to do in that moment. Lacing his hands behind his head, he stared back at her in giddy wonderment.

Cate came back to him and kissed him squarely on the lips. "I love you."

He dropped his arms to tug her to him and kissed her back, pouring his heart and soul into every lingering second his lips were on hers. Pulling back, he looked deep into her eyes. This woman that he loved more than his drugs, his music, his career or his life itself, she was everything to him. Her strength, her conviction made him a better man. She had become his salvation and his reason for waking up everyday. She was his life. "Thank you for believing."

She beamed at him with her rich chocolate eyes that saw him as the most wonderful man in the world. He was more in love with her in that moment than ever before. For the first time in his life, House felt like he could handle anything.


	36. Chapter 36: It Can't Be

Sessions – Nine Months

Chapter 36: It Can't Be

_A/N: Ok, so I'm a liar. A terrible horrible person! I have forsaken you my loyal readers AND my dearest sweetest romantic couple. I swore that I wasn't going to let Gauntlet get in the way of this love of a lifetime, but alas, I had succumbed to the lure of an exciting new romance. I thought I could be super woman and do BOTH. I was wrong. I am ashamed. I am chagrinned. But… I am back! _

_I am back to work next week ruining the minds of teenagers one at a time, so updates may come once a week until I get back into the groove of the school year. Please hang on. I will NOT leave this story unfinished. I promise. And, no, I'm not lying about that!_

_Just to review: House is on Methadone… and can walk, no pain. Cate is somewhere around 6 and a half months pregnant. They're waiting to move into the new house and House hasn't really talked to Wilson since the night of the big Drug Bust._

_The clinic story is totally pilfered from _Rescue Me_. I cannot take credit for that kind of disgusting humor! Only those brilliant writers are sick enough to come up with that kind of hilarity. So if I offend… I do it with all the love in the world!_

_Oh, BTW, decided to mix it up a bit and write the beginning from Wilson's POV, just for a change of pace. Enjoy!_

HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

Happy. It was the only way Wilson could describe it. House was…happy.

Wilson didn't know if that was even in the statistical realm of possibility. House happy? Whistling, skip in his step, happy? He had never technically seen him on the brink of what normal people would call joy. His usual version of joy was more of a biting, sarcastic, diabolic pleasure seeking in someone else's misery kind of happy, not this, this… creepy, non-sadistic altruism that was circling around his best friend. This was just wrong.

Something must be done.

Wilson watched House exit the exam room of Moronic Broken Finger patient. The kid exited the room and held up is broken finger and pinky up in rock-out solidarity. "Thanks, bro."

"No problem, dude," House returned, waved the hand gesture and continued down the hall to the next room.

"Was that the moron with the broken finger?" Lisa asked curiously as she came up along side of him, the aroma of her rose scented perfume calming him, but not quelling the burning desire to discover what the hell was going on.

"Yeah," Wilson answered, stymied.

"The kid's not screaming for another doctor?" she crossed her arms over her pregnant belly.

"No," Wilson relayed in astonishment. "He's done."

"Just like that?" Her face contorted into a curious grimace. "Is House whistling?"

"Did he just…" Wilson pointed down the hall at House retreating back. "Is that a bounce in his step?"

Lisa's eyes widened and her mouth dropped open in confusion. "I think so. And he twirled his cane."

"Instead of using it…" he looked at her. She looked back at him and their minds whirled and connected. "Something is afoot…"

Lisa turned to him and placed her tiny hands on her hips. "What do you think is going on?"

"I don't know," he said gravely, narrowing his eyes suspiciously. "He looked like he was almost…"

"… Happy," she supplied, echoing his concern.

"And he was…"

"… Walking…" Lisa finished for him. "How the hell is that possible?"

"I'm not sure." Wilson shook his head and took her by the arm to a more private area of the clinic lobby. "Has Cate said anything to you?"

She shook her head. "No. He forbids her to talk to me about him. And he obviously hasn't said anything to you." She looked around to make sure no one was listening. "Do you think he's on drugs?" He rolled his eyes at her and she made a face and then amended her previous statement, "I mean more so that usual."

"I don't know," Wilson said, speculating. "Maybe he got his hands on some Oxycodone again? It's the only thing I can think of off the top of my head. That or heroin?"

Lisa's eyes widened and he could see the thoughts of lawsuits and fines and licenses being revoked churning in her head. She shook her head nervously and frowned. "Oh, this is not good. He can't practice high. And what about Cate? And the baby?"

Wilson held up his hands. "Alright, lets not jump to conclusions. We have to figure this out… quietly."

"What are we going to do?"

Wilson ran his hand over the back of his neck contemplating a plan of action. "I don't know, yet."

"You know neither one of them have been… themselves… since that night we went over to tell them about Rachel," she mentioned, bringing up the odd circumstances they had inadvertently walked into over a week ago. Both Cate and House were shifty, and anxious and House most certainly didn't want them to be there, even more so that usual. And House _wouldn't_ drink. Something was definitely up and Wilson would bet money on it, it had to do with drugs.

"Ok, you see what you can get out of Cate," he suggested.

"It's not going to be much," she told him. "She's like Helen Keller when it comes to him. Deaf, dumb and blind."

"Try anyway, and I'll see what I can get from him," he said. "I'm sure it won't be much, but I'll know if he's lying."

"Ok, we'll touch base later," she said and gave him a swift peck on the cheek. "Love you."

"Love you too." Wilson watched her go and then turned in the direction of House's next patient in Exam 2. If he remembered correctly, it was another dumb college guy, this time with a discolored penis. _Oh this should be interesting_….

He knocked respectfully on the door and waited. "_Entre vous_…" came the call.

Wilson opened the door and slipped in. The patient was standing in front of House zipping up his pants.

"Uh… Jeremy…" House said double-checking his file for the kid's name, "this is Dr. Wilson… He's an oncologist."

"Oncologist," the eyes widened. "That's like cancer, right?"

"Yes," Wilson answered. It was a typical response; no one ever wanted to see him unless they already knew they had the dreaded 'C'.

The kid turned to House now extremely worried. "You think this is cancer?"

House shrugged. "Could be." He lifted the corner of his mouth into a grin and slid a glance at Wilson. Obviously it wasn't cancer and House just wanted to mess with the guy. "Why don't you show Dr. Wilson your uh…condition and let him take a look."

The kid looked dubious but unzipped his pants again and took out his penis. "Good, God!" Wilson exclaimed, jumping back a bit and then bit his tongue.

"I know, that's what I said," House quipped exaggeratedly.

"I'm sorry," Wilson said regaining his professionalism. He cleared his throat and adjusted his tie. "I've just never seen that… that color before."

The kid shifted from foot to foot, his anxiety ramping up to monumental proportions. "You guys think this is bad?"

"You're penis is orange," House stated. "Like cheeto orange. It ain't good."

The kid tucked his privates away and zipped up again before pacing the room. "What am I going to do? Can we fix it?"

"It's not cancer," Wilson said, a little perplexed by the situation. He had literally never seen anything like it.

"You got a girlfriend?" House asked.

The guy stopped pacing. "No, why?"

House cocked his head to the side with a smirk. "You been jerking off a lot? Spanking the monkey? Rubbing more than a few out? Choking the chicken? Beating…"

"House," Wilson cut him off and rolled his eyes.

"I guess," the kid said sheepishly.

"You guess? It's not like you don't know either you _are_ or you _aren't_," House stated. "How often?"

The young guy's eyes went wide. "Oh my God, do you think I've been doing it too much?"

"Is it ever really _too much_?" House mused and Wilson kicked his stool. House laughed. "How many times a day?"

"Once, sometimes twice," he admitted after a moment.

"You use lotion?" House asked with a raised eyebrow. "You know, to avoid the chaffing?"

"Yeah, whatever's in the bathroom," he answered with a shrug.

"You still living at home?" The kid nodded. "With a sister?"

"Ugh, what does my sister have to do with this? That's disgusting man," he griped indignantly looking like he might hurl.

"No, idiot," House said. "That is gross. Is your sister all goldeny tan?"

Wilson put his hand to his forehead. _Oh, no_…

"Yeah, " the kids answered cautiously.

"You've been using self tanner to whack off… Everyday. No wonder your Johnson's the color of a carrot." House said with a laugh. "Look at the palm of your hand, even a fortune teller could tell you what you've been doing with the stains on those lines."

Wilson shook his head. Unbelievable. This was actually very funny. How does he find these people?

"Stop using the Jergen's and find something else," he told him rising from the stool and hooking his cane on his elbow. "It'll fade in a couple of weeks."

"Thanks, doc," the guy said with a sigh of great relief.

"Peace out, bro," House said and pulled the door open.

Wilson followed him out the door shaking his head. House grinned. "Idiot. I made that mistake. One time. It's not even that good of a lube…"

Wilson waved his hand in to cut him off. "Why would you even admit that?"

House shrugged and then laughed. "Pft. I don't know." He popped a lollipop into his mouth.

"Recently?" he arched an eyebrow at him.

"Nah, early pregnancy…" he said and then made a face like he was thinking about something. "I may have to start again, she's getting uncomfortable."

_What the hell was he talking about? _Wilson stared at him searching his eyes for the telltale pinpoint pupils from opiates. But he wasn't finding any. He wasn't finding any dilatation either from Amphetamines. Could this happiness be… _real_? This was getting increasingly odder by the minute.

"Are you feeling ok?" he asked carefully.

House slanted his head at him. "Perfect why?"

"Sex last night?"

He tipped his head further. "I just said she's getting uncomfortable." His shifted his weight to his other foot. "What this about?"

Wilson made a face and doubled back a bit, perplexed. "You're happy."

House gasped. "Ha! Blasphemer! How dare you?"

"So you deny that you're happy?" he alleged.

"I am no such thing," House professed taking the chart out of the slot next to exam room three. "And frankly Wilson, I am appalled that you would accuse me of such a thing."

With that, House disappeared into the room closing the door in his face. Wilson stood there in momentary shock. He was thoroughly confused and for the life of him couldn't figure out what was going on. Things were definitely not copasetic in the state of House. And he needed to get to the bottom of this. And fast. Before somebody got hurt.

HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

House swung the door open to the exam room, amused and confused by Wilson's inquiry. Happy? Ha… he was just in a less than crappy mood. And these people were funny today.

"Doc?"

"Big Don?" What the hell was his father-in-law doing here in the clinic?

The older man rose form the chair and approached him and House took a wary step back. He did a cursory scan for the sidearm he knew the former cop carried on his person but didn't really see it under his lightweight jacket. So, House surmised that he wasn't here to exact revenge about something which was good because he couldn't recall anything he'd really done in the last few months to piss him off besides rib him about the World Championship Phillies' pitiful opening to the new season.

"What are you doing here?" he asked. "Cate's up in her office today."

"I'm not here to see Cate," he said. "I here to see you."

House frowned. "Okay…" Man, he knew the guy took his baseball seriously, but what the hell? He narrowed his eyes speculatively. "What can I do for you?"

Cate's father sighed heavily and cleared his throat. "I need a favor."

"Oh, ho ho," House began to laugh. "Wait let me sit down. This has got to be good." He pulled the stool over and sat. "_You_ need a favor from _me_?"

His father in law narrowed his deep black eyes at him in aggravation. "Believe me. It pains me to even have to come and ask you for anything. But…" he hesitated a moment. "I figured you'd understand."

House bounced his cane up and down on the floor in amusement as he watched the brawny man struggle with his predicament. "What is it you need?"

Don sighed and sat on the exam table. "I need the blue pills."

House actually choked on his salvia and removed his lollipop. "You what?"

"You heard me," Don stated.

House chuckled and ran his hand over his mouth. "You have a doctor. Just go to him."

"He told me I can't take Viagra," he said.

"Are you on nitrates for angina?"

"Catie doesn't know," Don said.

"Of course she doesn't," he muttered and sighed. "High blood pressure?"

Don nodded.

"Who prescribed?"

"My GP."

Tossing his candy into the trash, House got up and took the blood pressure cuff from the hanger on the wall. "For how long?"

"Eight months," he told him taking off his jacket and rolling up his sleeve. "It started when she was in the South Pole."

House pumped up the cuff and stuck his stethoscope in his ears. "And you never thought to tell your Doctor Daughter that you have angina, high blood pressure and most likely high cholesterol?"

"I didn't want to worry her."

"Spoken like a true martyr." Taking his reading, he unvelcro-ed the cuff and hung it back on the hook. "You're blood pressure is a little low. You probably need an adjustment on the meds." House moved over to the other side of the table and listened to his heart and breath sounds. "I'm going to put you on calcium-channel blockers for the angina and blood pressure." He wrote out the scrip and handed it to him. "I'm also giving you the name of a cardiologist in Philly that _you're going to see_." He handed him that paper.

"What about the little blue pills?" he asked sheepishly.

"With the switch in medications you probably won't need them, but…" House wrote one for them too. "… here's a prescription for some until that issue works itself out. DO NOT take, and I mean DO NOT take it with the nitro. Understand?"

"Thank you," he said looking at the papers.

"Now go get you're your little Don some action," House said.

Don hopped off the table and put his coat back on. "You won't tell Catie about any of this will you?"

"Of course not," House replied. "Doctor/patient confidentiality."

HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

"So how was lunch today?" House asked Cate as he came into their room to change into his pajamas for the night.

"Fine," she replied rubbing coco butter on her belly. She was becoming increasingly paranoid about getting stretch marks and had developed a nightly ritual of lathering. "Boring, really. I had salad alone in my office while I did paperwork. You?"

House stepped into his pajama bottoms and gave her a curious glance. "You didn't have lunch with Don?"

"No. Why?" she looked at him curiously.

House made a face. Shit. He would have bet a hundred buck the old man would have at least gone to take his daughter to lunch.

"My dad was at the hospital today?"

"Ooops…"

"He came to see you?" she stared at him incredulously.

House shrugged and changed his t-shirt. "He stopped by the clinic today."

"Really? Is everything alright?" she asked putting the top back on her cream.

House shrugged at her. "Yeah," he gave her an overly cheery smile. "Just ducky."

She narrowed her eyes at him as she slipped on her pajama top. "What did he want?"

He limped into the bathroom to pee and she took out his last does of Methadone for the night. He was so gonna be in trouble for this. Maybe if he ignored her, she'd be distracted by his medication. She followed him into the bathroom and waited for him to finish washing his hands before handing him the little cup with the green liquid in it. "What did he want," she repeated as if maybe he hadn't heard her.

House made a show of chugging back the liquid meds and threw out the cup with an audible 'Ah'. He turned and walked back into their room. "A prescription…"

She followed him. "A prescription for what?" She was starting to get annoyed; he could hear it in the tone of her voice.

House climbed into bed and fluffed his pillows. "Um… the little blue pills…"

"What?" she exclaimed climbing into bed next to him kneeling awkwardly over him. "Really? Seriously? Why?"

"An easier time jerking off…" he shrugged and then rolled his eyes when she gave him a disgusted gasp. "Why do you think why?"

Cate made a face that ranged somewhere between disgust and morbid curiosity. "He's dating someone?"

House shrugged and settling in under the comforter. "I would assume so." He really wasn't in the mood to ask Big Don any gory details.

"He didn't tell me he was seeing anyone," she said to him almost as much as to herself.

House laughed at her. "Of course he not going to tell you he's getting a wrinkled piece of ass on the side, you're his daughter."

She inched her way over to her side of the bed again and stuck her feet under the edge of the blanket. He had to help her get under the covers because he big belly was keeping her from maneuvering the way she wanted to go. He tried really hard not to laugh at her, because she was getting pissed and she might actually hit him. Once she was finally settled against her pillow she looked at him, breathing heavily. She was so pathetic and adorable. "Did he tell you who?"

"Hell no." He turned to the side so she could look at him. "I didn't ask."

"Why not?" she demanded, like he was supposed to know that she was going to need this information.

"Don't care," he shrugged. She pouted at him and he rolled his eyes. "Look, it was like a drive by. Actually it was more like a duck and cover… I didn't have time for meaningless questions."

She pulled her body pillow between her legs and lifted her belly up onto it as she turned to face him. "I wonder if it's the woman my aunt was trying to set him up with from church?" She bit her thumbnail racking her brain for more candidates. "Or it could be Shelly What's-her-face from the old precinct. He always had a thing for her which used to piss my mother off."

House let out a groan. "Who cares? He's getting some. Maybe he'll be less of a grouch…"

She arched one of her eyebrows at him. "Really? You're getting some. How's that working out for you?"

"Ha, ha… funny," he griped at her and then gave her a devilish grin. "I'm feeling a little cranky, want to get busy?"

"Nah, I just got comfortable," she declined and settled down into her pillows more. She placed her hand on his cheek and frowned an apologetic smile at him.

Rolling his eyes he grabbed her hand and kissed her palm. "I guess what I told Wilson today was right."

"Oh yeah, what's that?"

"I'm going to have to start taking care of my own business again soon," he muttered.

"Honey, I would…" she began.

"Yeah, yeah… I'm a big boy. I can live," he told her with a sigh and then his mind switched tracks. "Wilson suspects something."

"What do you mean?" she looked at him curiously.

"He accused me today of being happy," he said.

Cate gasped in mock horror. "He didn't!"

"I'm going to have to tell him soon," he said. "I think he caught me walking."

"Greg, you say it like it's a bad thing," she said touching her hand to his chest. Of course she supported him in the endeavor. It was all her idea to begin with. He knew his best friend and boss weren't going to take to kindly to it.

"They're not going to react to it well," he frowned. "Anytime I've tried to do something different they always have to interject their opinion and undermined it somehow."

"They care about you," she replied. "They want what's best for you. We all do."

House shrugged. "I'm not in pain anymore. And I'm not giving that up."

"No one's asking you to," she reminded him. "I believe that what we're doing is right. We'll be fine. You'll be fine. Just give it time."

He shook his head and closed his eyes. She was right. She always was. He loved that and hated that about her sometimes. But, with this, he wasn't too sure he could totally believe her. He knew his 'friends' a hell of a lot longer than she did. And she was a little too optimistic about their acceptance capabilities.

Leaning over, he kissed her forehead and then rolled back to turn out the light. "Goodnight baby-mama…"

"Goodnight, baby daddy." Thirty seconds later she growled. "Mother fucker!"

"What?"

"I have to pee!"

"Does that mean we can have sex now?"

House took the slamming door as a big 'no go for launch' on that idea. Chuckling, he closed his eyes and went to sleep.


	37. Chapter 37: Confirmation

Sessions II – Nine Months

Chapter 37: Confirmation

A/N: Well, back at school now, and it's going to take a bit to get into a routine with the two new classes I'm teaching. So, nevertheless, I had a chance to finish this. Yay! Thank you to my wonderful sounding boards, kwaish and spotandpunk. Without you guys, I'd never get my words out in the correct order.

HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

Cate finished jotting down her notes for the patient with an inexplicable rash that she had scratched into a set of festering lesions. After twenty minutes of circumspect questioning, Cate had discovered the truth behind it all. The girl had foolishly carved her boyfriend's initials into her arm and regretted it once he broke up with her for another girl. She obsessively scratched at it until it bled, hoping that it would scar over the mistake of being violently in love enough to self-mutilate.

Cuddy suddenly entered the clinic looking joyously pregnant in a spring, floral patterned dress. The woman always had such a lovely air about her, and now that she was pregnant, she was absolutely radiant. "What are you doing down this way today?" she asked cheerfully as she approached Cate.

"Taub called me down to consult on an OCD, self-mutilator," she answered closing the file and handing it to the nurse behind the desk.

Cuddy made a face. "Taub's down here," she said with measured patience. "Your husband is going to owe me clinic hours until well after he's dead and buried. That is, if I don't kill him myself."

Cate gave her a sympathetic smile. "Well, look on the bright side, if you decide not to kill him, he may eventually get around to doing at least some of his hours. That is, of course, if you can find him."

"Yes, this is true," Cuddy agreed reluctantly. "I have a feeling he's staking out the newest flat screen in the Pediatrics' play room."

"Oh, yes," Cate chuckled. "I did hear something about that the other day. He's most certainly plotting to steal it right out from the children's noses."

Lisa grimaced. "Wonderful…. Say, it's almost lunchtime and I'm starving. Want to grab something to eat?"

Cate looked at her watch. Her next appointment wasn't scheduled until 1:00 and she was beginning to get hungry, as well. If she didn't eat now, she'd probably run out of time. "Sure, sounds like a good idea."

The two women walked out of the clinic and into the cafeteria line. The place was still empty but people were beginning to file in to beat the rush of lunch hour. They each selected their respective lunches and headed for a table by the window.

"It's looks gorgeous out," Cate commented. "Do you want to grab a table outside?"

"Oh, that's an excellent idea," Cuddy replied as they pushed through the door to the patio. The sun was shining and the grass was a brilliant emerald green. The weather was a tad warm for May, but it was such a welcome change from the long cold winter they had. Since her stint in the South Pole, Cate couldn't stand winter anymore. The cold was too much for her and she needed every degree of warmth that promised to come with the summer flowers.

Taking a seat, Cate let the sunshine warm her face and she breathed in the fresh air. "It's going to get hot so fast. I cannot wait."

"I'm a little concerned about being eight months pregnant in the middle of the summer," Lisa told her as she opened the dressing to her salad. "Some of the nurses told me it can get pretty unbearable."

"I know," Cate commiserated. "They've been telling me that too. I guess we'll just have to spend all our time in the AC or in my new pool if I ever move into this damn house."

"When do you think it will happen?"

"Bonnie said we should be done with all of the paperwork, inspections and crap by the end of May beginning of June," Cate told her digging into her own salad.

"It's such a chore buying a house," Lisa replied.

"I know, I'm getting anxious," Cate admitted. "Greg has like five thousand books and articles that still need to be packed. And he insists that he needs every single one of them."

"Then make him pack them," she stated.

"Hello, have you met my husband?" Cate scoffed. "You know better than anyone how much he can't stand to do organizational things. Oh by the way, I think he told me the other day that he 'filed' some case folders in the third floor janitor's closet."

Lisa rolled her eyes. "Great, I'll get them after lunch," she said and then regarded her earnestly before taking another fork full of salad. "How is he doing with all of this… change?"

Cate shrugged. "He's fine. He's actually excited to move. I think it has more to do with the man cave and pool table than anything else, but hey, a girl can't be choosey with him, you know?"

"He does seem very… _happy_ lately," Lisa pointed out.

"I think he may go into a full blown panic attack the day we actually move but other than that, yeah, he's good," Cate shrugged.

"Make sure you have plenty of Xanax on hand," Cuddy laughed and arched her eyebrow almost pointedly at her.

Cate cringed inwardly. _Yeah, there was no way in hell she was going to be giving him anything of the sort. Xanax was a benzodiazapam. Xanax + Methadone = death_. "I'm sure he'll be just fine."

"You're probably right," Lisa said. "Like I said before he has been very happy. Maybe he's turning over a new leaf, getting ready to be a father…"

Cate narrowed her eyes at her friend. She wasn't thrilled about the tone in Cuddy's voice. "You say that like he shouldn't be?"

Lisa stammered for a second. "No, I mean, this is House we're talking about here. House doesn't turn over leaves, new or old."

"Right. And everyone said 'House doesn't date, House will never get married, he'd never have kids'," Cate pointed out. "I'd say that's like a whole bush he's turned over. Wouldn't you?"

Cuddy shrugged. "Maybe. You can't deny that he's been acting differently lately. James and I have both noticed it. Hell, Cate, even the nurses in the clinic have noticed it." She leaned into make her point, "He's actually been nice to them."

"So what are you trying to say Lisa," Cate demanded getting a little perturbed by the direction this conversation had turned. "You're upset when he's not in the clinic and when he is, it's suspect because he's not being an ass?"

"I'm just curious as to what is going on with House," Lisa stated matter-of-factly. "He's not himself, which is not all that unpleasant, but I need to know if he's being chemically altered to be that way."

Cate blinked at her for a beat. "Are you serious?" she demanded. "Are you asking me if my husband is doing drugs?"

Cuddy just stared at her almost challenging her to refute it; her square jaw jutting out at a sharp angle that rivaled the edge in her eyes. Cate was beside herself with anger at the woman's audacity. Lisa was supposed to be his friend. How could she think such a thing?

Cate took in a breath to calm herself. She could feel the baby shifting as she became agitated. "Did it ever occur to you that he might be on anti-depressants or mood elevators?" she offered by way of deflection. It was really no one's business. That had it under control and he was doing remarkably well. She supposed that was inherently the problem. If House was happy then there must be something wrong. It was ludicrous.

"Is he?" Cuddy pressed I her authoritative voice.

"If he was, I'm under no obligation to tell you, as a doctor or his wife."

Cuddy raised a finely arched eyebrow at her. "As a doctor, you know this is way more than just mood elevators," she stated.

Cate wiped her fingers with her napkin and placed it on the tray. She had had enough. With the way they operated around here, Cate had a niggling suspicion that Cuddy and Wilson were probably conspiring to do something to prove themselves correct. If they tried to alter his medication or give him something different like they had to get him to go to his father's funeral, they could unknowingly kill him. "I swear to God Lisa, if you or Wilson try to drug him without his knowledge or consent to see if you can get answers from him, I will sue you both for malpractice." She rose from her chair and grabbed her tray. Lisa at least had the grace to look ashamed. "I resent you using our friendship to fish for gossip about my husband. If you want to know so badly, then just ask him. Stop playing games for once."

"If I though I could get a straight answer from him, I would, " Cuddy told her coolly defending herself. "He's my friend but I also have a hospital to run."

Cate rolled her eyes disgustedly. "Thanks for lunch. It's been enlightening." She walked away from the table, angrier than she'd been in a very long time. Now she understood why he was so worried to tell them anything. They were all clinically insane.

Plucking her cell phone out of her lab coat, Cate push the speed dial. Of course she was sent right to voice mail. He was probably down in the morgue, which got no cell service down there. "Hey, I need to see you ASAP. So come out of hiding wherever you are and come see me right away."

HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

House watched Wilson from across the small dining table at Joe's Grill later that evening. Cate had informed him, quite heatedly, about her conversation with Cuddy earlier that day. He had to practically drug his wife to calm her down. Cate was so angry at Cuddy that she was about to give birth right there in the middle of her office. He knew that something was brewing with Wilson and Cuddy. There was no way they wouldn't notice the change in him. Just like there was certainly no way they were going to blow it off and not try to ferret out information. He'd known them too long to expect otherwise. So he cut the confrontation off at the pass and took Wilson out to dinner. House knew Wilson was chomping at the bit to talk and this was as good a time as any.

"The braised pork chops with mango relish looks really good, " Wilson murmured from behind the special menu.

"I wouldn't know because you've been hogging the special menu since we sat down," House griped as he perused the regular menu. He leaned a little further into the light and squinted at the thin scrolly font that made up the menu in the dim ambient light. _Fuck, he was getting old_. He really should have brought his glasses. "What does that say? Calamari in what kind of sauce?"

Wilson peered over his folio and followed House's finger. "I think it says Buffalo sauce?"

House tipped his head back and forth. "That sounds kind of good. Wanna share it?"

"Yeah, I don't think I could eat a whole appetizer myself anymore," Wilson agreed, nodding. "Especially not Buffalo Calamari. Goes in fiery and comes out fiery, if you know what I mean."

"Yeah, I know what you mean," he replied with a grimace. Suddenly, House snorted and shook his head. "What are we, fucking Statler and Waldorf? When did we become so old and incontinent?"

Wilson's eyebrow twitched and he frowned. "I don't know. Maybe when we decided to settle down and have kids? The last time we actually had bust out crazy fun was Chase's bachelor party a couple of months ago."

"True, and I didn't even really partake, how sad is that?"

"Your wife was home, dehydrated and stuck on an IV bag, no one would blame you for that," Wilson said. "Nah, we haven't had a really good, drunken farce like we used to in a long time. Remember that time after Bonnie left me and we went to Scores in the city?"

House laughed and folded his menu recalling that night. "You were so drunk afterwards, you picked up a female impersonator because you thought she was Britney Spears. Man, you were so ready to fly to Vegas and get married again."

Wilson laughed. "I don't know how you could let me go on for so long. She didn't even look like a woman let alone Britney."

"Her wig was all matted and you could see the five o'clock shadow on her humongous Adam's apple," House chuckled thinking about how awkwardly manly this young man/woman looked. "Good times!"

Wilson chortled. "We went for sushi karaoke and her fake breast fell out on to the table in the middle of her singing 'Billie Jean'."

"Aww, yeah, the chicken cutlet looking thing," House laughed. "It flapped right out like a fish! We didn't even get to the unagi."

Wilson laughed hysterically and wiped at his eyes. "Ah man. That was a good time. I still have her business card in my wallet."

"What the hell for?"

"Just in case," Wilson replied with a shrug.

"In case of what? You need a he/she to come and perform bad lip sync to your dying patients because no one should leave this mortal plain without experiencing the joy of seeing that?"

"Hey," Wilson shrugged. "You never know. The Make a Wish Foundation certainly woldn't supply that."

"Good, maybe we can hire her to come dress up like Sponge Bob or Dora the Explorer for our kids birthday parties," House muttered.

"Oh, ho, ho," Wilson shook his head. "Yeah, that would go over like a fart in temple in my house."

House laughed. "Yeah my house too. Except she'd laugh first, call me an asshole and then call my mother to go hire a real character straight from the Disney Channel."

Their waitress came and they placed their orders. Feeling gutsy, they did order the calamari. House went with the steak and Wilson eventually went with the pork chops since it was the last thing he remembered he looked at.

"Did you two want anything from the bar?" the woman asked them as she took their menus.

Wilson raised his eyebrows at him questioningly. "I'll have a Jack and Diet Coke… you?"

House pursed his lips. He knew this was coming. "No thanks. Ginger ale's good."

The woman left and Wilson looked at him as if maybe he stared at him long enough House would cave in and spontaneously offer up his secret. _Fat chance, Wilson should know better than that_. Boy Wonder Oncologist was going to have to work for it.

"Not drinking again?"

House shook his head. "Nope."

"Well, I know it's not because you're gonna have sex later, because you provided that TMI the other day," Wilson speculated.

"True," he replied.

His friend's expressive eyebrows drew together in contemplation, pausing for a moment. "Are you going to AA?"

House blinked, shocked, because he really didn't think Wilson was going to go there. "What? No. Why would you ask that?"

"Well, you're suddenly not drinking, _anything at all_," Wilson said. "It's not like you've just cut back, you're flat out teetotaling. That's generally what you do when you're in Alcoholics Anonymous."

"Wow, that's different," House tilted his head. "You've called me a lot of things, but never an alcoholic. Words can hurt you know."

Wilson laughed incredulously. "How is that worse than me calling you a drug addict?"

"I don't know," House muttered. "The drugs were something that I had to do, and maybe took sometimes because I liked the way they made me feel. But alcoholic?"

Wilson narrowed his eyes at him. "You're using the past tense…"

"What do you mean?" he asked innocently.

"When you just spoke, you used the past tense about the drugs; you know exactly what I mean. You say things in the most calculated manner, there's never a careless slip of the tongue."

House stared at him with an amused grin.

"Are you not doing drugs anymore?" Wilson dropped is voice and looked around. "Did you give up Vicodin?"

House sighed and tapped the table surface with his knuckles. _It was now or never_… "I'm on Methadone."

Wilson's eyes widened to the size of dinner plates. "What? Why the hell would you do that?"

House cocked his eyes up to the corner. "Well, gee, what kinds of things do they use Methadone for, genius? It's a stupid product really. Heroin without the high."

"Yeah, and twice the risk of death," Wilson declared.

"But no risk of arrest," he added.

"Why?" Wilson shook his head. "Why would you take such a risk?"

"To detox, to get off the Vicodin, to take away my pain," he listed counting them off on his fingers.

"There are other things that can do that," Wilson argued, "without the risk to your life. Mis-time your dose, you die. Couple of drinks, you die. Mix it with the wrong drugs, you die. You want to detox from Vicodin? Pick something that won't kill you."

"Maybe, eventually," House hedged. "But right now, I'm in no pain."

"If you're looking for something to help with your pain…" Wilson began.

"It doesn't just help with the pain," House stated confidently. "Methadone eliminates it."

Wilson looked at him for a bit, contemplating what he had just been told. "But how can you be sure. You have a baby on the way, House… you owe it to Cate…" He was cut off by the server coming to bring their drinks. Wilson smiled politely at her and then continued once she'd gone. "Cate would never…"

"It was Cate's idea," House told him.

"Cate?" Wilson screeched. "Is she out of her mind?"

House shook his head. "No. She knows exactly how to manage it. If anything, she's the best person to do it."

"She's managing your dosages?" Wilson blinked at him in incredulity. "House, that's completely unethical!"

"Oh come off it, you and your love rug have been managing my Vicodin dosages for years, doling out when and how I can have my prescriptions. How is this any different?"

"If she miscalculates until you're stabilized…" he started.

"I am stabilized," he told him. "I haven't had to take a Vicodin in over a week. We started three weeks ago. She knows what she's doing."

Wilson sat for a long time with his hand over his mouth, not saying anything. House stared at him. "What? What's the problem?"

"I can't believe you didn't tell me," Wilson finally said.

House narrowed his eyes, confused. "What do you mean?"

"You didn't confide in me. Normally, I'd be the first one you'd come to with these insane ideas that you get. But …" he shrugged a sad frown at him. "I guess I'm not that person anymore."

House shook his head, disbelieving his ears. "Are you jealous?"

Wilson looked at him, wounded for a second, but then his expression changed to one of denial. "No. No, she's your wife. She should be the one you share these things with."

House laughed in disbelief. "You are. You're jealous."

"No, House, come on, I love Cate, " Wilson rebutted. "I… I… it's just weird."

House grinned at him. "You know you'll always be my Snooky-Bear."

Wilson rolled his eyes. "You're an asshole."

Laughing, House took a sip of his ginger ale. "So yeah, I'm not an alcoholic, douchebag. I'm a recovering drug addict."

Wilson laughed. "Yes, of course, that distinction is so much better. My apologies."

House bristled. "I have my principles, you know."

"Yes, you're nothing if not principled."

"Hey, a guy's gotta have his standards," he told his friend.

Their food came and they ate, chatting companionably. That was much easier than House thought. Go figure.


	38. Chapter 38: Amends

Sessions II – Nine Months

Chapter 38: Amends

_A/N: Hey kids, back with a brief installment. I usually have an obsessive need to write about 3000 plus words but this just seemed to be compact and didn't need anymore because I've tied up the loose ends on the Methadone arc. He's staying on it… things are beginning to fall into place as they get ready to move and have this baby._

_I can't tell you how excited I am by the new season. Broken was, in my opinion, fan-fucking-tastic. The writing was excellent from perspective of the story arc of his journey. He's a clean slate now and I can't wait to see how they immerse him back in his own world. They can explore virtually anything with him now… Anyway, that's my two cents worth. Enjoy!_

HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

The afternoon after House's meal with Wilson, Cate was in her office catching up on some paperwork. She was reviewing her session notes and making entries into her patient's files for the day when the intercom sounded a tone, breaking Cate's concentration. It was later in the afternoon and she knew it couldn't have been House. She had already seen him around lunchtime. Besides, he would have just barged his way in and Mrs. Frankle would have happily let him because the older woman adored him. So it must have been something important.

"Yes, Mrs. Frankle?" Cate said after pressing the button on the phone.

"I'm sorry to disturb you Dr. Milton-House, but Dr. Cuddy is here to see you," the woman's distinctive voice chimed from the speaker.

Cate grimaced. She knew what this was about and she really wasn't in the mood to go three rounds with Lisa about Greg's methadone use. But, nevertheless, she was the boss and Cate did have to permit her to come in. Maybe there was a slim chance it was about something else. "Send her in, Margaret."

Steeling herself with a deep breath, Cate put a placid smile on her face and rose slowly from her desk chair. She rubbed at her lower back to ease the dull ache that had settled there from sitting so long before bringing her hand around front to support the weight of her belly. Baby House seemed to be growing by the minute lately.

Cuddy entered the office quietly. There was a noticeably different air about her today than yesterday when the two women had shared lunch. Wary, Cate eyed her friend as she crossed to the back of the sofa. The expression on her face was dour. Lisa was contrite. Her haughty arrogance from yesterday was gone replaced by what was genuine remorse.

"What can I do for you," Cate asked politely, unwilling to automatically give her the benefit of the doubt that she was here to apologize for her rude behavior. It was something she wasn't proud of but, Cate held a grudge like the true Irish-Italian that she was.

Lisa stopped at the back of the sofa and gave her a thin smile that didn't totally reach her eyes. "I need to apologize for yesterday."

Taken aback by her blunt admission by cutting through all of the tap-dancing she was so adept at, Cate bit her tongue to keep from retorting what she really wanted to say. Instead, she channeled her mother's gracious nature and penchant for forgiveness. The woman was offering her an olive branch. Cate needed to be willing to listen. Her fierce protectiveness of her husband would serve no purpose here other than to perpetuate the on-going tension. Logically she knew they needed to get this behind them and move on, even though she would have enjoyed seeing her friend writhe a little under the pressure of having to make amends over their disagreement. However, they both had way more important things on their plates at the moment than to indulge in the pettiness of a catfight. "Why don't we have a seat and we can talk?"

Lisa nodded and rounded the couch to sit perched on its edge like a bird waiting to take flight. Cate joined her in the conversation area in her leather therapist's chair. She smoothed her skirt against the backs of her thighs as she sat against the cushion to support her back. Crossing her legs, she leaned her elbow on the arm of the chair and watched as Lisa folded her hands demurely on her lap in front of her perfectly rounded belly. They were like two lionesses coming to have a meeting of the minds over a wayward cub. Only, Greg was Cate's cub and Lisa couldn't seem to understand that bond. She believed her position as his boss gave her the authority to continue to delve into his personal life the way she had too many times before. Cate had a vague notion that old habits died hard, but she wasn't going to give Cuddy any latitude on this. Lisa's caring for him was relegated to causal observer now, whether she liked it or not. House was Cate's husband and his life was part of her's now. Not the other way around.

"I was out of line yesterday," Cuddy began tightly.

"You were," Cate acknowledged carefully.

Lisa closed her eyes and then brought her gray irises to Cate's. "James told me about the Methadone." There was a hint of shame in her voice. She was trying to remain professional and be her friend at the same time. Unfortunately, what the woman didn't understand was that the two were not the same. It was too difficult to be boss and friend simultaneously. One had to out-weigh the other.

"Yes," Cate said simply by way of confirmation.

Lisa leveled her gaze at her. "Look, I know that you're upset with me," Cuddy began. Cate kept her mouth shut and let her continue. "I have no excuse for being devious with you and using our friendship to gain information that really is none of my business. But I am deeply sorry." Her tone was earnest and her eyes became misty as she spoke.

Cate felt herself become emotional at her friend's sincerity. She looked at her hands a little ashamed at her ability to be so chilly sometimes. Maybe it was a little irrational to continue to be so upset about it.

"I only do these things out of love," Lisa continued. "I care about him deeply. I always have."

"I know you do," Cate acknowledged in a small voice.

"It's why I do what I do," she explained lamely as if it were her excuse to everything.

"Greg doesn't need you to do it anymore," Cate said firmly but without an edge. "He's taking control over his own life."

"Because he can't afford _not to_ anymore," Cuddy stated. "He _needs_ to make these changes."

Cate leveled her eyes at her. "No Lisa, it's not because he _needs_ to, it's because he _wants_ to. That's where the difference is."

Lisa looked at her sadly. "Cate, he's said that before," she argued with an empathetic tone as if to warn her. But, Cate knew that this time was different for him. She knew him better than all of them now.

"He's a drug addict Lisa," Cate said flatly. "He's manipulated every one around him, every situation he could to maintain his habit. The problem was that he couldn't live without the drug because he'd never be rid of the pain. He had no choice." Cate leaned forward and sighed. "This time it's different. The drug he's taking to break the habit ironically manages his pain better than anything he's ever tried. He's able to function and live a normal life. At least as normal a life as House can live…" she punctuated her statement with a warm smile. He would still always be that grumpy, sarcastic genius with a modicum of interpersonal skills…

Nodding, Cuddy lifted her pink lips into a rueful smile understanding the depth of her meaning. She looked down at her hands and sat quietly in contemplation for a moment. Lisa's eyes sought Cate's again. "Is he really feeling no pain?"

Cate smiled warmly at her. "Yes, he's not in pain anymore."

Lisa let out a sob and she covered her lips with her hand. Her eyes misted over and a lone tear rolled down the side of her face. "Cate that's wonderful. You have no idea how happy that makes me."

"I do," Cate said looked directly at her. "I do, because I love him more than anyone."

Lisa leaned forward to grab a tissue from the box on the low coffee table between them. She dabbed delicately at her eyes and wiped her nose. "I hate to ask you this but, in your professional opinion, do you think that he is capable of maintaining this regiment? I know how difficult and restrictive it is to manage. Because, I need to know, if he's able to practice safely…"

Cate sighed. The burden of responsibility that Cuddy held on her shoulders was overwhelming. Cuddy would always be that little Dutch Boy trying to keep everything from crumbling at their feet. Cate did not envy her position at all. It was Greg's private medical information but if the hospital board found out that one of their doctors was practicing medicine while taking methadone, there would be some heavy questions to answer. "In my honest to goodness professional opinion I wouldn't have suggested that he try it if I didn't think it would have been a better option for him. I manage his doses and give out Vicodin when he gets break-though pain, but so far that's only happened once. He was as high a function Vicodin addict as I've ever seen. He was more than capable to practice medicine with a clear and logical mind on an opiate. He'll be just as capable on a synthetic opiate that doesn't give him a high _and_ takes away his pain. His thoughts are already clearer, more rational. Now the only things you have to worry about are the annoying nuances of his regular personality. No drug will take that away."

Cuddy held the tissue to her nose and laughed at that. "Are you sure, you seem to have worked magic with everything else?"

Cate laughed at that too. "Nah, I like him all crusty and cranky. He's edgy. It's sexy."

Lisa waved her hand dismissively at her. "Ha! He's never unleashed a full-on assault at you. They scab over and take weeks to heal. There's nothing sexy about that."

Cate chuckled. "No, he hasn't, that's true."

"Well, I'm glad he's doing well," Lisa said placing her hands on her knees. "Are we ok?"

"Yeah, we are," Cate replied, moving forward in the chair to rise. Standing was a three-step process now. Move forward, brace for the momentum and then get up. "Just promise me that you'll be direct with either of us next time that you have a concern."

Cuddy did her own version of the prego rise-to-standing. "I promise."

Cate met her at the edge of the coffee table and accepted Cuddy's embrace.

"I'm so sorry Cate," Lisa said as she squeezed her tightly.

Cate ran her hands over her back. "It's all right." She pulled back and looked at her friend. "You care about him, that shouldn't change. It's your methods that need an overhaul."

Lisa chuckled and step away from her. "I agree. I need less stress in my life."

"Don't we all," Cate laughed. "Don't we all…"


	39. Chapter 39: Third Sunday in June

Sessions II: Nine Months

Chapter 39: Third Sunday in June

_A/N: Not even gonna say it… Miss you, luv you. Enjoy!_

HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

Memorial day had come and gone. And it was now the second week of June. Things had been going well. The Houses and Wilson had settle their differences regarding the secretive transition from Vicodin to Methadone and had actually gotten back to their routine of meeting for Sunday brunch. House had successfully been on the Methadone for over a month and had only needed a few doses of prescription grade ibuprofen to occasionally manage some breakthrough pain. His most recent bought was after he had spent the entire weekend with Cate going through his extensive collection of books on their shelves. Much to Cate's dismay, he really did need to keep all of them. He knew which books to go to for information about Nephrology, which ones held info on autoimmune, cancer, blood disorders, and plagues from the 1600's, 1700's and 1800's. There were books in Indian, Japanese and even some in Mandarin about ancient Chinese medicines; all of which he could read. He had a whole shelf of books about African diseases transmitted by animals, plants and toxins. You name it; he had it and had actually read and referenced them all. It was mind-boggling. So, they had packed them all up and now had a stack of twenty-five different boxes in front of the shelving. It looked oddly empty and a sign that they were indeed moving in a week.

They had finally closed on the house, signed, sealed and delivered on June 1st. New paint and carpet had been laid, and furniture had been bought to fill in the new space. Thankfully, no huge emotional revelations had occurred in the furniture store for a change. They were able to buy a new leather sectional, coffee and end tables and some lamps and matching club chairs without incident. Smaller things had been brought over to the house in dribs and drabs but the major stuff like their everyday things, dishes, TV and such had yet to be packed or ready to go.

And then there was the issue of the piano. House had yet to hire a piano mover to come, which was a chore and a half. It couldn't be just anyone, it had to be a special mover that was based out of Hackensack and had been in the business since Gershwin was knee-high to a grasshopper. But now that it was coming down to the wire, they had decided that it was best to clear everything else out first and get settled in the house before they had the piano moved. That gave them an additional four weeks because they had decided to sell the condo, as well, and they would be closing on that at the end of next month. House didn't want any ties left with his old life and he felt that if they kept the apartment it would forever link him to the past he wanted to forget.

The sooner all of this was done, the better as far as Cate was concerned. She was now in her eight month, 33 weeks and she was becoming more and more tired and uncomfortably huge. She felt like a Beluga whale and had the temper of a Great White Shark. Anything and everything that crossed her path was in danger of having its head bit off. Things were getting increasingly more difficult to do and spending time on her feet was becoming a chore. Mercifully, she couldn't see her ankles below her big belly because they were swollen most of the time. House was immediately concerned because swelling, specifically pitting edema, could be a sign of preeclampsia. Ever the Nephrologist, he was constantly monitoring the output of her kidneys. He had given her mandatory protein marker tests everyday and checked her BP twice daily. So far, she was hovering around 119/75, which was extremely good even for someone who wasn't pregnant. Plus, she had had no visual disturbances, all of which were warning signs of preeclampsia. Dr. Sheldon had said that her fluid to space ratio was good on their last check up which meant that their little boy had plenty of fluid to flip around in. And boy was he flipping. Cate had not had a solid night's sleep in over a month. Between the constant foot in the ribs, elbow in her spine or knee on her bladder, she couldn't get a minute's rest. Not to mention the heartburn. _Good God, this baby had to have a head of hair!_ She had eaten a box of Tums in three days. Cate was stressed to say the least. But she was surviving.

Stepping off the elevator, Cate waddled into Diagnostics late that afternoon. House was at his desk on the computer. As soon as she walked in, he noticed her and shifted his position to face her.

"Hey, Mama," he said flashing her a smile.

Cate smiled back and placed herself carefully into his chair in the corner lifting her feet up onto the ottoman to alleviate some of the toll gravity was taking on her today. "Hey, Daddy."

Getting up slowly, he ambled over to the ottoman and sat down. It was so nice to see him not have to use his cane all that much anymore. Without the nagging pain in his leg, he was more mobile than ever before. Positioning himself in front of her, he lifted her feet into his lap and slipped off her shoes. Gloriously, his firm hands began to rub her feet.

Cate moaned and let her head loll back against the cushion. "You are my hero."

House laughed and continued to massage the fluid and tiredness out of her foot. "Just call me Super Stud."

Cate smiled and let out a contented sigh. "You are most definitely a Super Stud… though it's been a while since I've had first hand experience."

"Third Trimester sex definitely doesn't trump Second Trimester, too many logistics involved."

Pouting at him in commiseration, she smiled at him and enjoyed the ministrations of his hands on a more needy part of her anatomy. "You know what this weekend is?" she mused with her eyes closed before cracking one open when he didn't respond directly.

House screwed his face up into exaggerated contemplation. "The mark of the summer solstice?"

"Yes, but no," Cate shook her head.

"The final game of the NBA Playoffs?"

Cate frowned and shook her head. "Don't really care about that, though the Phillies are playing the Braves on Sunday afternoon, which should give you a little hint as to what I'm thinking of."

"How about you just tell me, because, I can play this game all day," he quipped pulling on her toe before shifting his attentions to her other foot.

"This Sunday is Father's Day," she told him.

"So? Not a father yet, therefore don't really care," he replied.

"But my father is and does," Cate informed him succinctly.

"Oh, joy," he grumbled. "Does that mean we have to actually acknowledge it? And do something painful like dinner as a family?"

"Yup, exactly," she said.

"Can't we just send a card and have you pretend like I signed it?" he whined. "The last time I actually gave a shit enough to celebrate Father's Day, I was six and made a big macaroni and paper tie for my non-father which he promptly tossed in the trash because it was so hideous. So I'm not really the honoring the paternal sperm donor type."

"Um, you'll do it for me because you're the 'not pissing off your pregnant wife' type," she informed him.

He made a face at her, trapped in the fact that she was right. "You're lucky you're cute."

"I know," she replied saucily. "You love me."

"You have no idea, the things I do because I love you," he grunted.

"Yeah, yeah…" she waved off his complaining. He was so adorable when he was grumpy…

HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

House would have gladly pulled a Coyote Ugly to get out of this situation of having to go to brunch with Big Don on Father's Day; that was to say, he would have chewed off all of his limbs if it meant he could get out of this snarling trap. Except he was stuck, like his poor old rat, Steve McQueen in a twisted convoluted maze. However, he wasn't really sure there was any cheese worthwhile at the end. Even chocolate chip macadamia nut pancakes couldn't make this situation as cozy as his darling plump little wife wanted it to be. Neither House, nor Big Don did cozy.

He wasn't really sure why he let her talk him into this but Cate had decided that it would be a nice idea to surprise her father by just showing up at the house and taking him to breakfast at his favorite place in town. Big Don didn't really strike him as the impromptu kind of guy unless it was he who was doing the surprising because it gave him the offensive advantage during an interrogation or a big drug bust. Tactical surprise was more his style, not the other way around. But the pregnant wife insisted and as House had learned a long time ago, it was easier to go along for the ride and then triumphantly wield the 'I told you so's' with vigor and pride when it inevitably hit the fan.

Holding out his hand, House helped Cate get out of the car into her father's drive way. It was a bright, sunny warm day. Cate had on navy blue v-neck t-shirt that clung to her belly and a pair of lightweight pants that showed off her 'cankles' as she called them. Unfortunately she wasn't wrong, though he'd never tell her so. Her ankles had indeed swollen to the size of her calves and she was retaining water like she was sponge. In the beginning, he couldn't keep her hydrated enough, now he couldn't keep her from floating away down a river of edema and pee. He couldn't wait until this baby was out. At least then he'd have something tangible to show for the all of the sleepless nights and worrying. Seven more weeks… one more before they moved, two more before they went to her birthday present, Phillies vs. the Mets, a showdown almost as epic as a Red Sox/Yankees game, or to put it more globally, the Palestinians battling the Israelis over the Gaza Strip. House was kind of looking forward to it because of how fiercely competitive she got over baseball and because he could now actually sit and enjoy a game without having to down six Vicodin to make it through. Since starting the Methadone, he had to admit he was feeling pretty damn close to 85 percent, which was almost a B plus, above average. That was a far cry from where he was a year ago. A year ago, he was recovering from deep brain stimulation, the death of someone he respected as a colleague and maybe even a worthy opponent, and nursing a far greater wound of losing his best friend. When he actually took time to look back on it, he was flabbergasted by how fast his life had changed and gone in a completely uncharted direction. He had a wife, a baby on the way, a father-in-law he begrudgingly did participate in family functions with. No pain. And no drugs.

It was amazing what a regular piece of ass could do to a guy. Indeed, it was true that men could only think with one brain at a time. If he was functioning with his small brain for all these months and happily, then who was he to say any different. Of course, it could possibly be explained by residual brain damage from the bus crash. Maybe he was under a skewed false perception that he did actually deserve to be happy.

At the same time, he wondered if his brain actually ever did come out of the coma. He was convinced some days that this was all some sort of cruel dream; one of those Christmas Carol walkthroughs to show the cranky old scrooge what his life could have been like if only he'd stop demanding poor Wilson Cratchit take care of his miserable drunken ass. But, then he'd look into his wife's eyes and know that all of it was very real. Cate's love and devotion to him wasn't a fantasy conjured by a sick and broken mind. She was as real as the day was long, and she was there by his side every morning when he'd open his eyes. Yet as confident he was in that, he could help but pray that she hadn't come to her senses and disappeared in the dark of night. No, she was there for the long haul, just like she had told him. They were irrevocably bound to each other by the person sharing their DNA growing inside her… their son. Even just seven weeks away, it still sounded so strange to his ears. He was a changed man because of her.

Cate was his saint, his savior and his salvation. So, he'd do this small thing for her. Go to breakfast with her father for Father's Day, because eventually one day, now that his liver wasn't going to fail on him, he'd live long enough and their son would be dragging his poor wife to come see his own grumpy old ass on Father's Day. It would be a twisted version of the circle of life. Ironic, but true. House owed Cate that much. Though it didn't mean he wasn't going to complain about it in the process. Even he had his standards.

"Let's go, " he griped. "You want to move your rotundous self a little quicker. You look like you're smuggling tiny Mexicans over the border inside that beach ball you've got under your shirt."

"Fuck you," she retorted as she waddled up the walkway toward the front door. House chuckled under his breath. _God, her buttons were so easy to push right now._ It was like shooting fish in a barrel. "Why don't you try carrying thirty extra pounds in front of you with your lungs up in your armpits? Lets see how fast you move with that and a gimpy leg?"

_Ooo, she was feisty today_… he'd better dial it back a bit. "Well, actually the view from back here is just fine," he said as he watched her bottom sway back and forth under the hem of her form fitting maternity t-shirt. "Your ass is like two full ripe cantaloupes, just a little bigger than a handful and mmm, ripe for the squeezing."

"Don't touch my ass, my father still owns a number of guns."

"I'm well aware," he replied coming up behind her as she opened the storm door and took out her key to slip into the lock. "Are you sure he's not going to shoot us for breaking and entering?"

"It's 10:00 AM," she said pushing the door open and stepping inside. "I'm sure he's awake and had coffee already."

"Well at least that makes one of us…" he griped as he followed her in.

"Oh will you stop your bitching… your like, a … Oh my God!" She halted and gasped. "OH MY GOD!"

Before House could process what was going on, he felt Cate's hands on his chest pushing him back out the door. "Omigod…omigod, omigod, omigod, omigod, omigod…" she repeated frantically.

"Cate, what the hell…" He looked over her shoulder and saw Big Don standing there in his tightie whities looking like he'd seen a ghost.

"Catie…"

"Gregory?"

House froze. "Mom?"


	40. Chapter 40: Who Knew

Sessions II: Nine Months

Chapter 40: Who Knew

"_Mom?"_

House blinked once…

Twice…

Three times…

His mother was really there…standing in front of him… _in the flesh_… quite literally.

House squeezed his eyes shut to block the image from his vision, however it was irrevocably burned on his retinas and now permanently boring itself into his brain on its way to his long-term memory stores. He had just seen more of his mother's skin than he ever cared to. Her legs were bare all the way up to the hem of flimsy pink nightie and even flimsier robe that skimmed the bottom of her ass… _Oh God!_

House doubled over and tried to catch his breath. _Her ass_… his mother's ass… his mother's bare naked, seductive nightie-wearing ass… _She_ was the wrinkled piece of ass Big Don was getting on the side. _Oh God… he had called his mother a wrinkled piece of ass!_ His hands flew to his mouth to cover the gasp of incredulity that had escaped as he bolted upright. _She_ was the one he prescribed Viagra to Big Don for? His own mother! _Holy Fucking Hell!_ He had enabled his own mother… to get laid… by his father-in-law? By Big Don!

House's world spun and tilted like he was on a carnival ride and he actually thought he might hurl for a second. Instinctively, he reached into his jeans pocket and came up with handful of folded twenty dollar bills and piece of dryer lint. No Vicodin. _Oh for the love of God, he needed Vicodin_… Two pills, no three pills, _right now_ to deaden the racing graphic thoughts he couldn't shut out of his mind. He looked up frantically, fisting his hands by his sides as his breathing came in short panting gasps. His eyes couldn't focus on anything but the shock and the rage that was bubbling up inside of him as the pornographic soundtrack of moans and sighs played in his head. He looked around the room and saw flashes of navy blue and light brown hair, filmy pink and gray, deep black and skin. Too much skin. There were sounds, voices murmuring underneath the ringing of his pulse in his ears. Someone was calling his name…

"Greg, Greg… are you alright?"

Suddenly, his perception focused to pinpoint accuracy. He could hear the wings of a fly echo across the room, a minivan drive too fast down the street, voices of kids playing with a dog in the yard next door and the sound of his mother's voice…

"Gregory? Darling…"

His vision narrowed in on the black and the skin. His rage and betrayal took over and House snapped. "You son of a bitch!" Like a flash, his reached his fist up and connected with Big Don's jaw with a loud crack that reverberated up his arm and into his shoulder blade like he had hit a boulder of granite.

"What the… ugh."

"Ohmigod…"

"Oh Dear…"

"… Greg"

"… Gregory!"

Cates's hands were on his chest again, pushing him backward with a strength that sent him staggering back against the sofa. He collapsed into the cushions with a thud as the numbness of impact with Big Don's jaw had dissipated into a raging throb. The pain pulsated through his first two metacarpophalangeal joints into his radius and ulna. Traveling quickly up his humerus, it landed solidly in his scapula and settled into a muscle tightening burn. The guy was made of solid stone. Sure he might have stumbled back a bit by the force of the blow, but it was probably more out of surprise than it was over any kind of damage House was able to inflict. His own hand was unfortunately the one to bear the brunt of it.

"What has gotten into you?" his mother screeched at him. He hadn't heard that tone come from her since he was seventeen.

"Me?" House questioned incredulously standing up swiftly and advancing on her. "Isn't the question more like what has gotten into you? Or more like who's been getting into you? But it's obvious we know who that is now, don't we?"

He felt his mother's hand slap his cheek with a sting that shut him up in humbled disgrace. He closed his eyes feeling the pain of discipline in all its incarnations. He had deserved that. Anytime she had ever struck him, he had whole-heartedly deserved it. Sighing with deep regret, he lowered his eyes to the floor ashamed that he had used such biting, vulgar sarcasm toward his mother. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Cate's disappointed expression and he felt even more mortified at his own behavior.

"How dare you speak to me that way," his mother wheeled on him, pointing that finger at his face like she used to do when he was a precocious child. Except now, she was standing in front of him in a gauzy pink nightgown and had just been caught _in flagrante delicto_ by her grown son and her enormously pregnant daughter-in-law. If House weren't so mortified by the situation, he would have bowed down in fits of hysterical laughter at the ridiculousness of it all.

"Mom, I'm…" his voice croaked.

"Oh don't you dare apologize to me, Gregory Benjamin House," she sniped, still with the finger waging in his face. "You're an ass."

Cate had moved into the tiny kitchen and was placing ice cubes into a Ziploc bag. Her movements were jerky and tight. She was angry. He didn't blame her. Though, he was hoping that at least some of her ire was directed at her father for keeping such an egregious secret from her. He watched her come back into the dinning room area and place the bag on her father's jaw where a reddish bruise was beginning to show itself.

"Ah, Jesus, Catie," Big Don winced a little as the cold bag touched his skin. _Good, at least old Stone Jaw was feeling some kind of discomfort too._ "Take it easy, will ya? Doc, there, has a pretty good right hook."

"Stop whining, and just hold it there," Cate ordered. "And why don't you go put some clothes on? As if this situation isn't uncomfortable enough as it is."

Her father nodded and went down the hall presumably to his bedroom.

House shook his head. He didn't want to think about anything remotely close to his bedroom. "Mom, I really am sorry… I just…"

She cut him off again with that finger and he snapped his mouth shut. "I am going to get dressed. You had better be sitting at the that dinning room table when Don and I come back."

"Yes, ma'am," he murmured, reverting all the way back to when he was seven and he had to wait for his father to come home after he'd done something incredibly stupid, like accidentally set the kitchen on fire. It was amazing how even at now at the age of fifty, his mother still held such power over him. Like an obedient child, he pulled out one of the chairs and sat himself down.

Cate huffed a laughed and stared at him crossing her arms tightly over her big belly. Rolling his eyes, he sighed and looked at her. "What?"

"What the hell was that all about?" she scoffed.

House stared back at her incredulously. "Excuse me? What the hell do you think it was all about? Your father is having sex with my mother!" Even voicing those words felt like bile in his mouth.

"I know," she retorted hysterically and flung her hands out to the side in aggravation. "It's a shock and a little disconcerting to say the least, but Greg for God's sakes, you punched my father in the face!"

He rolled his eyes again and pointed back at her. "The man came to me to get Viagra so he could fuck my mother."

Jamming her hands into her hair, she cringed and paced back and forth at the head of the table. "Don't say it like that. It's so vulgar when you put it that way."

"That's what it is!" he argued.

"They're our parents, Greg," she insisted as if he was completely oblivious to the fact. "Our parents are _having sex_. They're not _fucking_."

"Whatever, if that's the spin you want to put on it," he grunted. "Having sex is just a polite way of saying _fucking, banging, bumping uglies, doin' the nasty_… all of it's revolting. No matter what you call it, Cate, it's a huge problem."

She leveled her eyes at him and took in a cleansing breath. Placing her hand at the bottom of her belly to support the weight of the baby and to center herself, she closed her eyes for some much needed patience and then pulled out a chair to sit down.

"You really shouldn't be getting yourself so uppity about this," he said, running his hand over his mouth and down his jaw working out the tension that had settled there. "You're going to become hypertensive."

Snorting in disbelief, she flashed her eyes at him. "Maybe I wouldn't be so uppity if you hadn't punched my father in the face!"

"It was a reflex, " he dismissed. Of course she wasn't going to let that part go, never mind the glaringly obvious part that led him to do such a terrible act. "I was blinded by outrage and impending nausea. Could you cut me a little slack?"

"He's sixty-five years old, Greg," she shouted.

Holding up his bruised and swollen knuckles for her to see, he replied, "Please, the man's got the jaw of a seasoned boxer. Believe me, I took the brunt of it. Pops is gonna be just fine."

As if summoned by their conversation, Big Don and House's mother returned from the bedroom, fully clothed, both ironically looking a like a bizarre cross between teenagers caught in the act and disappointed parents waiting to dole out punishments. House had been on the receiving end of both of those situations and to have them mixed into an amalgamation of one unified thing was thoroughly confounding. _How in the world did this happen?_

House's mother took the seat directly across from him and Don stood off to the side crossing his arms like a sentry in allegiance with her.

"Catie, Greg, we haven't exactly been honest with you," Don began really looking more at his daughter than at House. House wasn't sure if it was because he actually had the balls to punch him or if it was because the man was more concerned with how his daughter was reacting to the fact that her dad was now a stud again. "Blythe and I have been seeing each other since we came back from your wedding."

"What?" House spat.

Cate's mouth dropped open and her eyes went wide. "Since January? You kept this from us for six and a half months?"

House was stunned into silence. He didn't know what to say. He wasn't even really sure there was anything to say. Hell, he wasn't even sure that it could have gotten worse, but it just did.

"You flew us down to Jamaica," his mother went on to explain. "We stayed together in the that lovely suit, in that tropical paradise and well… one thing led to another." Don placed his hand lovingly on her shoulder and she covered his hand in hers, gazing up into his eyes with a warmth that House had rarely seen from her. She was in love. After all these years, and less than a year after his father died, his mother was in love. And it was all his doing.

House brought his eyes to Cate's to gauge her reaction to this news. Her hand was covering her mouth and her eyes were blank with shock. She was quiet…eerily quiet, and he began to get a little worried. "Cate?"

When she didn't respond right away, he reached his left hand out to her and touched her fingers resting on the table. Clasping her palm in his, he gave her a little squeeze and she broke her trance of astonishment. She looked at him for confirmation that what she had heard and saw was indeed fact; that she somehow hadn't imagined it. Apparently, the answer that she was seeking was unknowingly in his face and she turned back to her father staring at him in incredulity. "Dad? How could you keep this from us for so long?"

"Cate," Blythe interjected gently. "We didn't want to tell you because we wanted to be sure that there was something worth telling."

"Forgive me Blythe, but six and a half months of a relationship is something worth telling," Cate replied tightly.

"We understand you're upset and confused," she went on.

"Wait," House held his hands up. "You're a 'we'? As in first-person plural? With the intention of sending joint Christmas cards?" He was having a lot of trouble wrapping his head around this concept.

"Yes, Gregory, Don and I are together in an adult relationship," she spoke slowly and clearly so as to not be misunderstood. "We are a couple."

Don looked down at Blythe with a sympathetic smile on his face before looking back up at both of them. "We were going to wait to tell you this at a more appropriate time, but I'm selling the house Catie and moving to Princeton with Blythe." _And yet, things had become worse still…_

Thank god House was already sitting down, because he might have fallen down and cracked his head open on the corner of the table. In the span of twenty minutes, they went from finding out that their parents were getting busy with each other to them moving in together and sharing residence like a pseudo-married couple. It bordered on a freakishly incestuous union, except they were even remotely close to being related. Yet, somehow House still felt like he was on the next episode of Jerry Springer. _Good God, what was the world coming to!_

Cate squealed quietly like a mouse and began to fan herself rapidly with her hand. "Just stop…stop…stop!" Her eyes were wild with pent up emotions she had no idea how to express and he could see the tears beginning to shine at the corners of her lids. She was on the verge of a break down. "You mean to tell me you're selling the house? You're going to sell Mom's house? My mother's home? Without telling me? Or asking how I'd feel about it?" Her words were deliberate and pointed, but House could hear the undercurrent of panic in them.

"Catie, it's not like that…" her father began.

"No! It's exactly like that dad!" she railed at him. "You're carrying on a clandestine affair with my mother-in-law for the better part of a year right under our noses and now your telling me you're ready to pack up and move out of the home you made with my mother for thirty-five years as if it wouldn't have had any impact on me?"

"Catie girl, why would I think that it would matter to you?" he volleyed back at her, a look of hurt deep in his black eyes. "Since you're mother died, you haven't wanted any part of what was left to you as her daughter. You've move to another city. You have a life that doesn't include your family anymore. You packed up and went to the South Pole for an entire year, leaving all of this behind." His large hand gestured around the old décor of the quaintly decorated house. All of it was a sign that a tasteful, quiet woman once lived there and had since passed. Big Don, retired Philly Police Detective, didn't pick out the tiny floral and faded mint green striped wallpaper or the delicately scrolled dining room chairs and breakfront. Her mother did. "You haven't taken or touched any of your mother's china or jewelry or old photos and books that she left to you. Why would I think that you cared if I sold the house?"

House watched Cate stand slowly like her father had slapped her as clear as his mother had hit him before for his outburst; only this one went much deeper emotionally. He suspected that this was the first time that either one of them was speaking of this undercurrent of pain that they shared and had denied. He and Blythe really had no room to judge; they had their own unspoken secrets dangling between them. So, the two Houses both sat in silence as the drama of the Miltons' unfolded in front of them.

"Just because I haven't taken the things the Mom left me, doesn't mean that I don't care," she said quietly. "Those things, are just things, Dad. They won't bring her back to me. They won't allow her to meet my husband or see her grandson be born. All they serve is as a reminder to what I've lost. The least you could have done was to tell me in advance so that I could make my own decision as to what I wanted to do about it. I shouldn't have had to find out about both at the same time."

Don lowered his eyes to the floor chagrinned by his daughter's words. "I'm so sorry, Catie. About all of it. But, Blythe and I care for each other. I want to move to be closer to her and to be closer to you and my grandson and… your crank ass husband," he added begrudgingly. He turned to House. "You deserved to hit me. I would have hit me too. I'm sorry."

House nodded his accord and then just like that there was an unspoken truce between them. He still cringed inwardly, knowing that his seventy-one year old mother was having sex with his father-in-law and planning on moving in with him so it could be a more frequent occurrence. That was going to take a hundred and fifty years to get used to. House would be long dead and gone before he'd ever feel totally comfortable with that. And then a thought occurred to him. What about his real father? Didn't she say that she had met with him on a few occasions? Was she having sex with him too?

House turned his attention to his mother. "Cate said that you've met with my biological father. Is that true?"

Blythe looked a little stunned at his bald question and then quickly regained her composure. "Yes, Gregory. I have. I gave you those letters to help you understand how we felt about each other and how your father and I came to love one another." She looked at him with serenity and poise, completely comfortable with her decisions in life. He supposed you didn't make it to her age and not have to come to terms with how your life has played out. "I made a mistake, but it was the greatest mistake I had ever made because it gave me you."

Now it was their turn for the drama to unfold, their turn to air out the dirty laundry of their lives. Other than that one time, they had never spoken about the truth of his birth. She gave him those letters but that was the end of their communication on the matter. Until now.

"Why did you go see him?" House questioned. "Why after all those years?"

"Because I needed to see with my own eyes who he had become," his mother answered simply. "You may have hated John House for who and what he was but he was never like the man Paul Sheppard had become. You may have wanted to be like him and not like John, but mistake me not when I say Paul is nothing like you. There is a brilliance in you that shined through all of the bad things that have happened to you. But not for him. He was a good man, at one time in his life when I knew him, but war had changed him and he came back a broken man."

She took a steadying breath and continued on. "You may think that your anger and stubbornness comes from John, but it doesn't. John gave you the steadfast determination to never give up or accept mediocrity or defeat. John taught you be right and to be dedicated to doing the right thing. And that is always what your father provided for us. He took care of us and loved us. He may not have been able to show it, or showed it in the wrong ways, but he cared. I made the right decision to stay with him after I found out I was pregnant with you and I will never regret that. Paul Sheppard has nothing to do with the man you've become or the gentle, loving person you are today. That you have to thank your wife for."

House listened to his mother and let her words sink into him. He had never in his life experienced such candor from her about something so relevant to his make-up. She had always supported and loved, took care of and smoothed over. She was there for him and blind to his faults when no one else was. But here she was speaking openly and honestly about his past, his father and the man who had given him life. It was a unnerving.

"Since we're being so honest here," House said, clearing his throat. "I didn't steal the vase from Major Schumacher's widow; Jimmy Kaslowski did. But I took the beating for it because Jimmy had covered for me when we went hiking and Darren fell off the cliff in Okinawa. It was my fault Darren fell because I dared him to go out on the dead branch. He fell and got sick because of me."

Blythe's face softened into a smile. "Greg, darling, I've known about that for thirty-six years since it happened."

"How did you?" House was surprised. He hadn't even told Stacey that story. How could his mother have known?

"Sweetheart, mothers talk," she said gently. "We lived on a small base and Darren told his mother what had happened. It wasn't your fault he went out there. He made the choice to do it on his own. But it was what made you decide to go into medicine. Things happen for reasons, darling, that we don't know or realize at the time."

Cate wiped at the corner of her eye with her fingertips and came over to place a kiss on his head. House wrapped his arm around her waist and rested his cheek against her belly. Chuckling at the peculiar events that had unfolded this morning, he pressed his lips to the softness of her t-shirt. "Are you sure you want out come out here little man? This family is cr-azy!"

Cate chuckled and took his face in her hands. Bending down as best she could, she touched her lips to his. "Wouldn't have it any other way."

The four laughed together for a minute and then let out a collective sigh as they all regarded each other from around the dining table.

Big Don frowned and then winced as his jaw twinged with the movement. Wriggling it to alleviate the discomfort, he chuckled. "So what exactly brings you two out here in the first place?"

Cate dropped her hands to House's shoulder and leaned some of her weight on him. "It's Father's Day, Dad. We came to take you to brunch."

"Really?" he screwed up his stony face in surprise. "I totally forgot."

House groaned out load and rolled his eyes. "Oh fucking great! See, we could have totally spent the morning in bed and avoided all of this bullshit!"

"Gregory, language, " his mother warned. "I don't care for your tone."

Cate leaned into him and laid her head against the top of his. "Sucks, to be you. Doesn't it?"

_Not in the least… Not in the least… _

HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

_A/N: Bow to the beta extraordinaire, Spot and Punk for her unraveling of my jumbled syntax. Ah, what a tangled web we weave…_

_And for those of you who need a really good laugh… FiveForFigthing09 sent me a link on youtube from the Fresh Prince of Bel Aire Called 'Mamma, NO!' If you need a hysterical visual to the insanity of the moment when they first walk in, go look it up. It's a good time!_

_And yes, I went there. Some of you saw it coming, some of you were blindsided, some thought it gross, some hysterical. Nevertheless, thank you all for your reviews! I have a twisted sense of humor and frankly have decided that it is best to go with my instincts and just write no matter what the fallout. So I hope you keep enjoying the spinning of my yarn because this poor woman has to give birth SOON or she may crack open like in Alien and Baby House will come out in a vengeance! Stayed tuned… it's coming soon._


	41. Chapter 41: Coming to Terms

Sessions II: Nine Months

Chapter 41: Coming to Terms

Cate washed her face, scrubbing vigorously to rinse away the stress of the day's events. As if a little face cleanser and some warm water could alleviate the fact that her father and House's mother were engaged in a sexual relationship. As a trained psychiatrist, this reeked with so many pseudo-incestuous components that it made her head spin. He was her father and she was her-mother-in-law. There was a traditional bond there that made them family. A sacred bond that in some cultures was tantamount to being blood related. Having sex with the mother of your son-in-law should have been like having sex with your wife's sister. Taboo. A line never, ever to be crossed.

But it wasn't like that. Blythe was not blood-related Cate. She wasn't her mother's sister. And she certainly wasn't her father's sister, which would be actual, concrete incest as defined by psychology and the law of mankind. Blythe was her husband's mother. Their parents were together, in a committed, sexual and emotional relationship. Which begged the question/explanation, when two parents, each with children from prior unions, came together in a sexual union, didn't those children then become stepsiblings? Wouldn't they, she and Greg, then be stepsiblings? Thereby being a brother and sister married to one another about to have a child together? _Oh good Lord…_ Her mind was racing with the psychosexual implications or what a union of those proportions meant in the delicate symbiosis of the human psyche. It could be downright catastrophic.

Cate groaned. She had been around Greg for much too long. She was _way_ over-thinking this. But damn it, she couldn't help it. It was just disturbing. She was shocked…no, she was floored. It wasn't every day that one found out that their father was having an affair, never mind that it was with her mother-n-law. Closing her eyes, Cate leaned her hands on the edge of the sink and took a breath. It had been five years since her mother had passed. Five years of grief was a long time. Her father had been devoted to her mother. He loved her as deeply as any man could love a woman. He was devastated when she had declined so rapidly after her she was diagnosed with cancer.

Tears pricked at Cate's eyes and she splashed warm water over her to quell the coming wave of emotion. It still hurt to think of and remember her mother. And it still hurt to think of how hard her father had taken it and how she had to be the strong one for so long. He deserved to be happy. Didn't he, now after all these years? Who was she to complain about where or with whom he found that happiness?

Blythe was a lovely woman. She was patient and wise. Poised and understated. In many ways, she was very much like Cate's own mother, just maybe without the Italian blood and the passion for sass that had run through her mother's veins. That was something that Cate had in spades. Coupled with her father's Irish stubbornness, she was a force to be reckoned with. Blythe was similar to her in that way, too. Determined and enduring. She'd had to be to raise a son like Greg in the environments that they had lived in, both globally and emotionally. She was loving and kind with a quiet perseverance. She had enabled, or rather balanced Greg. In turn, Blythe would balance her father too; bring a stability to his life that he had been missing since her mother had died and since Cate, herself, had left for Antarctica. Without that sense of belonging, her father was a satellite without an orbit. A guardian with out a task. He needed to feel needed, wanted and useful. That sense of purpose that defined his life was one of the hardest things for him to get over when he had retired from the force. With a woman he could care for, he would feel whole again. It was unmistakable in his eyes this morning. Cate could see it clearly. She was just so blinded by shock and outrage that neither one of them felt that they could trust Greg and her to reveal their relationship sooner.

Cate grimaced as a steady, intense tightening crept over her belly. Reaching for the towel to dry off her face, she remained bent over the sink as the tautness peaked and then dissipated slowly. Taking a deep breath she closed her eyes and paused. This was normal. She was in her thirty-third week. The baby was heavy and moving around and her body was beginning to get ready for the upcoming delivery. Things were fine, she was just a little stressed and over-tired. It was nothing to be concerned about.

Switching off the bathroom light, she slowly made her way to bed. Greg was already in bed, reading a medical journal with his glasses on. She felt a little like Mike and Carol Brady when she found him like that as she often did when she'd come out of the bathroom from her nightly ablutions. So quintessential, so domestic. It was charming and totally fell into her caveman/cavewoman secret fantasies of what married life should be. She knew, however, that she'd have to burn her she-woman-man-haters feminist membership card if she ever let that get out. He was just so fucking sexy and cute she couldn't help herself.

Lifting the corner of the blanket, she did her best to climb into bed without falling on her ass and looking like a beached whale. _So much for grace and agility_. Falling back against her pillows, she let out a heavy sigh.

"Thought maybe you'd come out without the first two layers of skin the way you were scrubbing your face in there," he quipped rhetorically as he peered over the edge of his glasses at her.

Keeping her eyes on the ceiling, she remained passive. "I was exfoliating."

"With a sand blaster and diamond grit?" he ventured touching the tender pink skin around her eyes.

Swatting his hand away, she gave him a disgruntled sigh. "No, that's from crying in shame at the tabloid headline we were exposed to today. I just can't curl up into a little ball in the corner to do it."

He chuckled at her and took his glasses off, placing them and the magazine on his nightstand, before rolling over onto his side to look at her. "I mean, after the initial shock, it wasn't all that terrible once we went to breakfast."

Cate flicked her head to the side and blinked at him. Reaching out her hand from under the blanket, she pressed her knuckles worriedly to his forehead. "Greg, _sweetheart_, are you ok? Honey focus, it's me, Cate. I'm right here don't worry. Help is on its way."

Annoyed, he jerked his head out from under her hand and rolled his eyes. "I'm not delusional. I'm being realistic."

Cate scoffed a laugh. "Ha! You know you're not supposed to take drugs when you're on Methadone right? Who's your dealer? I'll kick both of your asses."

"What are you gonna do? Exfoliate him to death?" he charged. "You know I'm right. There's nothing we can do about it. The damage is done."

Cate watched him shrug indifferently as if this were a case that couldn't be solved. The patient was dying and there was nothing that could be done anymore so he'd washed his hands of it. It was so weird how he could be so cut and dry like that, so black and white. This was they're parents they were talking about.

Swallowing, Cate looked back up at the ceiling. Maybe she was still overanalyzing. If he could be okay with this why couldn't she? He of all people, the ultimate manipulator of all things out of his control… "Why are you so complacent about this? Why aren't you having a psychotic break over it?"

"Because it's not worth my time," he replied.

Drawing her eyebrows together, she turned her face to him. "Not worth your time? How so?"

"Our parents are old. They're going to do what they want. Nothing we say or do is going to stop them. I punched your father in the face. I've wanted to do that since the day I met him, we've come full circle. I feel cleansed."

Cate laughed at that. "Well, bully for you! What about me? Should I punch your mother in the face?"

"Why would you want to do that?" He screwed his face up into a confused frown. "I thought you loved my mother. She's never done anything to you."

"Oh, don't get your knickers in a twist," she admonished. "I was being facetious. I love your mother. I don't want to punch her in the face. And besides, what has my father ever really done to you?"

"He came to me and asked me confidentially for Viagra, withholding a very important piece of the puzzle about fucking my mother, that's what."

"Stop saying it like that!" she complained and then let out a huff. "Ok, so that crossed the line a bit, but you know what I still can't get over?"

"What?"

"How we had no idea it was going on for all this time," she said. "They must have been laughing their asses off at Easter when I insisted that we have both of them over again with everyone."

"And Big Don shows up with my mother claiming that they had just met out on the stoop," he recalled with disdain. "Yeah right!"

"Oooo, and you know what," she gasped. "I bet she was going to see him on Valentine's Day when she had that accident because of the snow!"

"And that date, when you said she laughed at you because you thought it was my real father she was going to see!"

Both of them stewed staring each other in the eyes, seething in their shared mock-betrayal. "God, how could we be so self-absorbed?"

"I put them together in the hotel suit in Jamaica," he mused. "I pimped out my mother to Big Don."

"Yep, ya did," she agreed, not feeling one iota of pity for him. She was totally comfortable with putting the blame on him. "Way to go!"

"Great," he exclaimed and flopped onto his back with a groan. "Now I'm pissed off again. Happy now?"

Chuckling, Cate inched over to him and curled up into his side. "At least now we can be pissed off together."

His arm draped around her shoulders and his hand rested on her side. "When I die, are you going to have an affair with our son's father-in-law?"

"Only if he's got big hands and a rock solid…"

"Don't even say it…" he warned.

"I was going to say _retirement fund_, but _that's_ important too," she giggled. He pulled her closer to him and placed a kiss on the top of her head.

Cate went to lean up to kiss him on the lips but was halted by another tightening in the belly.

His face immediately grew concerned and his hand went to cup her cheek. "What's wrong?"

Letting out a breath slowly between her lips, she let the discomfort pass a bit. "It's just a little cramping, that's all."

"Cramping or contractions?" he pressed, all stations alert.

"Tightening…" she clarified.

"Where?"

"In my back coming around to my lower stomach under my bellybutton," she relayed following the path with her fingertips.

He guided her down against the bed and placed his hand over her bump. "Braxton Hicks. It's rock hard."

"I know," she said, relaxing as the muscles released under the heat of his palm.

"How long have they been lasting?"

"About ten to fifteen seconds," she replied.

"Those are a little long," his voice grew clinical.

"It's nothing to worry about," she assured him. Smiling gently, she covered his hand with hers. "I could be wrong, I'm not really counting. It's a little early to be going crazy over it."

"You should tell Sheldon about it when we see him next," he said.

"Now all of a sudden you respect his medical opinion?" she questioned, arching a quizzical brow at him.

Leveling a gaze at her, he frowned. "Just tell him."

"I will," she touched her hand to his face and he gave her a begrudging smile.

Shifting positions, he sat up and moved to get out of bed. "Here, roll over onto your side and move over, I'll come around behind you and rub your back."

Cate did as she was told, scooching over to the warm spot he had just vacated. His body heat and his smell curled around her like a cozy blanket. Tucking himself up behind her, his hands gently massaged and caressed away the tension in her lower back. He was so loving and attentive when he wanted to be. And she loved him dearly for it.

When she had finally relaxed into a puddle of jelly, he smoothed his hand around the side of her belly holding her to him like he had so many nights throughout the pregnancy. Protectively holding his baby inside of her, his hand gave her comfort and closeness wordlessly, the best way that he could.

Settling into the softness of his pillow, she closed her eyes and smiled dreamily. "You know that we still haven't come up with a name for this poor little boy."

"You haven't given me a list of names to refute yet," he murmured into her hair.

"I'd like to have your input other than 'no'," she told him gently, not wanting to disturb the quiet serenity they had just sunk into. "Don't you have any thoughts on what you want to call your son?"

He was quiet for a moment save for the gentle breathing against her ear. "I don't know. A name is so… it stays with you your whole life."

"It is a big deal," she agreed. "That's why we have to talk about it."

"Not tonight," he pleaded.

"Soon," she urged. "Otherwise he's forever going to be called 'Boy' House."

"Soon…" he promised.

Maybe once they were established in the house, next week, he'd feel more settled and ready to contemplate the monumental responsibility of giving a child its first identity. Until then, she'd settle for his whispered pledge of 'in a little while when I get my head clear of leaving my old life behind and establishing new roots, then I'll be able to tackle naming my son'. For now, 'Boy' House would have to do.

A/N: As always a tremendous shout out to my trusty beta Spot and Punk for her undying grammar skimming skills! And thanks to those who have reviewed, alerted and favorited. You make me happy with every little email that chimes on my blackberry.


	42. Chapter 42: Moving Day

Sessions II: Nine Months

Chapter 42: Moving Day

It actually all happened so fast that House really didn't have time to think, contemplate or orchestrate any of the strangely organized chaos that was happening around him. Large burly movers came in with dollies, padded blankets and straps to cart his entire life from one dwelling to another. They were like an army of ants that could hoist, heave and push twelve times their body weight in a fraction of the time he could have if he had two good legs and a strong desire to get the hell out of Dodge.

Things hustled and bustled around him and House felt oddly out of his element. Chaos in the operating room when something went wrong was a cakewalk compared to having one's life shipped around like packages at the UPS depot. He watched Cate follow one of the men hurriedly out of the front door to double check that the contents of the box were indeed supposed to go with them and not to the house in her Range Rover. All of a sudden, he had a flashback of moving to Germany when he was five and he had lost his little cowboy figure that rode the spotted Painted horse he had just like Tonto's. His mother had promised him that the toy would be in one of the boxes when they unpacked after they arrived in Stuttgart. She had searched and searched for him to no avail. His favorite cowboy had gotten lost in the move and House was devastated, hence ending his desire to become the Lone Ranger when he grew up. Childish dreams pinned to the symbols of childhood fantasies, swept away by the changing of the times. Even now the pang of that dashed hope smarted a little more than it should have.

When the rooms were finally cleared out, House stood in the center of what used to be his living room and surveyed the empty space. The walls were barren with the exception of the murky outline of faded, aged paint indicating where his art used to be. The floor was clear except for some dust bunnies in the corners and the snaking black cable wire that now had no media center to attach itself to. Even his beautiful fireplace had been swept clean, its flue shut to protect against the elements until someone else moved in to occupy the space.

Tens years.

Ten years of his life had been put into boxes, taken out by strangers and put into the back of a moving truck.

Ten long, lonely years.

He had lived in this condo alone for a full decade after Stacey. A full decade since his infarction. It was the longest he'd ever lived in one spot is in his entire life. And it had passed by in the blink of an eye. So many years he had wished he could just disappear, fade away into existence and hide from the world in this space. So many times he had drowned himself in booze and pills hoping that maybe, just maybe, one time he wouldn't wake up and the pain would finally be gone. But he was still here ten years later. Ten years after Stacey. Ten years after nature had turned on him and the woman he loved had taken his leg from him in turn.

The infarction had put a stop to his mobility. He could no longer move, run, play sports. He could barely drag himself out of bed on some of those early days. In the later days, it was all the drugs that kept him from getting out of bed. He had soon discovered that he could no longer do menial tasks for himself like change a tire or shovel the snow on his walk. He had to hire people to take care of those things; having to rely on others to do those simple chores that made being a man mean 'being a man'. In the beginning, he was weak, feeble and helpless… geriatric. His inability ate at him; his weakness angered him. It festered and rotted away at his ego leaving him embittered and cruel, like an abused animal that had been caged for too long. He had fierce aggression that he wielded on anyone and everyone who dared to condescend or disagree with him. He wanted to die, to leave this place and never come back.

Yet, he stayed here, in New Jersey, in this condo, because he had nowhere else to go. He couldn't work anymore in a bustling city hospital or travel to remote parts of the world where strange diseases and conditions ran rampant and unchecked. His temper had peaked to a caustic brand of nastiness and rebellion, and he was no longer marketable.

The truth be told, his ego had been way out of check before the infarction and that was what had landed him there at Princeton Plainsboro in the first place almost fourteen years ago. Cuddy was the only one in the entire country dumb enough to take on the risk of liability that he posed. Mayo didn't want him; Johns Hopkins was done with him still from the cheating incident. Cedars-Sinai and New York Presbyterian were also gun-shy because of his antisocial reputation. Word on the street was he was an egomaniac that would break every law and patient code to get what he wanted. They weren't wrong. He was that way. He was still that way. The patient's life always came first, the diagnosis more important than anything. House would never be warm and fuzzy or politically correct while doing it. Cuddy was just the right kind of masochist to endure his antics. A godsend at the right time and place. And she had his nuts in a sling because he needed a job and a place to hang his busted up shingle. So she got him cheap, making her look like a genius administrator in the process. Though truth be told, on that one as well, she was damned good at her job and he was a little concerned what would be in store for him when she took her maternity leave. That he didn't even want to contemplate right now. He was too overwhelmed with the past to be thinking about his future.

Apparently sometime in his musings, Cate had come back inside. She came up beside him and gently placed her hand on his arm. "I'm going to head over to the house with the movers now."

He nodded at her, unable to remove his eyes from the emptiness of where his life used to be.

"Take your time," she told him softly. "There's no rush."

House breathed in a deep sigh and looked at her. Her big brown eyes stared up at him with compassion and complete understanding. This woman knew him better than anyone else in the world. He knew that she was his future. Having lived around her for long enough now, he understood that he couldn't move on to that future without reconciling his past and she, better than anyone, knew that to be true as well.

He touched his fingers to the delicate line of her jaw. "Thank you."

"I love you," she said kissing him on the cheek before she left.

House heard the door shut behind her with a quiet click. The moving van had already turned over its engine and the rumbling could be felt from the street. There was a loud scraping of the metal door being pulled down and locked as some doors closed before pulling away down the street toward their new endeavor.

Standing alone in the space, he closed his eyes and let the stillness settle around him. There was a solidity in the air, an oppression. Like the mark of death, a blankness that fills the space with a heavy silence that can be heard and felt on a cellular level. That tangible quiet where memories float to the surface, once long forgotten. He waited willing and open for the onslaught of feeling. The panic of change, the urgency of moving on. He was ready to tackle it; living with Cate had prepared him and shown him how. But it was slow to come. Opening his eyes, he looked around and settled his vision on the one huge piece of his life left in the room, his piano. His piano had been his confessor all these years; it was only appropriate that it was left there with him to confide in now.

Walking slowly over to the instrument, he ran his hand lovingly across the highly polished ebony surface. Flipping up the cover for the keys, he sat down at the keyboard and touched his fingers over the ivory keys, feeling their cool smoothness and their gentle resistance as they cushioned back against the pads of his fingers. Setting his hands in a familiar position, he began to play.

The delicate chords echoed in the hollow of the room, the acoustics bouncing around him without the furniture and the carpeting to absorb the sound. It felt so open, so cavernous. The air of the room cleared and he was inspired to continue, letting the music fill him with the emotion he knew he was suppressing. As he played further into the depth of the chord structure, his fingers worked against the keys pushing out the music as it crescendoed on a wave. The sound grew filling the space, taking place of the pieces of his life that had been removed.

Gradually, the echoes of the past came through him like ghosts in a cauldron swirling around like a breeze, washing over him and entering his consciousness for the first time in long, long time. The music brought the memories. With every note that he played, they resurfaced through the tangle of years. These were the ghosts of his past, the reconciliations he needed to make with himself to be healed in order to move on. Anger, hate, pain. Sadness, hopelessness, despair. Arguments with Wilson, pokers nights with the guy from the dry cleaners, prostitutes, one night stands, the tortured sounds of his own screaming. Cameron's compassion, Tritter's disdain, Foreman, Cuddy… Amber and the dreams, the haunting feeling of dread that had washed over him when his realized his culpability in it all.

Then there was Cate.

Her laughter and her voice rang out like an angel clear as a lark soaring above the din. One well placed note in the structure to change the pitch and perception of all the sounds around it. She was the resolution to it all, the note that turned the melancholy to joy. She was harmony.

Cate had taught him that he was capable of love again, true and lasting love. She had showed him how to trust again, to be open to failure and to believe in himself as a human being. She never bought into his bullshit and she never doubted him. She knew when to push and when to back off. She knew how to get to him and she knew how to console him when it got to be too much. If ever he believed in fate or destiny, he would have said that she was made for him. They were two halves to a whole; she completed him and made him want to be a better man. Yeah it was cliché and greeting card syrup of a life lived happily ever after, but for the guy who flung barbs and spears and shit at people on a daily basis a little sugar in his life went a long way to making him tolerable to the rest of mankind.

His beautiful, smart, sexy incredible wife had saved him from himself. Helped him to emerge from the hell storm of self-recrimination and flagellation. He was poisoning himself with his ghosts and his drugs and he would surely have sunk deeper still if it hadn't been for her. She was the buoy, the tether he needed to keep him grounded, steady, sane. She was the light at the end of the tunnel. He was finally at the end of that long journey; that long dark and grizzly path. The light blinded him when he opened his eyes to see what lay ahead and it was too much to encompass in one glance; he needed time to let himself adjust but what he did see was a bright, beautiful future. It was open and free, the expanse immense but full of promise and hope. A place where things were possible, new roads could be taken, new challenges to overcome.

His fingers stilled on the piano and the sounds faded away into the air, taking with it the whispers of his memories. He gently shut the lid and rose from his bench. Running his hand lovingly over his exquisite instrument, he smiled.

"Until we meet again…"

House was ready to walk through the threshold to his new life. He was ready to say goodbye to the demons of his past and to face the unknown of his future. He was strong. He was able. He was no longer damaged.

He was whole.


	43. Chapter 43: Settling In

Sessions II: Nine Months

Chapter 43: Settling In

_A/N: Yup… I know…._

Cate stood off to the side from her designated spot on the front porch surveying the movers as they brought piece after piece of their life into the new home. Thirteen had been told in no uncertain terms to watch her like a hawk. She was to report back to HQ and subdue the rogue to the de-militarized, 'non-moving of heavy, or even not so heavy, objects' zone ASAP if there was any kind of breach in pregnant lady protocol. He had his spies everywhere and Cate was powerless but to submit to his orders, as well. Sighing, she sat on the lovely bench by the front window that was left by the previous owners and took a load off. It was just as well. The July air was hot, humid and her ankles were swollen beyond any kind of recognition of human anatomy. She was tired and there was still so much more to go.

Touching her hand to her belly, she rubbed soothing circles over her t-shirt. Who moves a house when they're eight months pregnant? What were they thinking? She felt helpless, useless. All she could do was point a finger to direct where boxes and furniture were supposed to go. She felt like a prima donna doling out orders from her chaise lounge with her feet up and some bon bons next to her in a foufy crystal dish. This was so not her. She was used to getting her hands dirty, being in the thick of things and taking care of herself. She hated to rely on people. She supposed it was because she was control freak. Scratch that… she _knew_ she was a control freak. She needed to be in charge, needed to take care of things herself. Just as much as Greg needed to be in control, she did as well. They were two of a kind in that sense. This waiting in the wings was foreign to her. But even she knew, with what seemed like a fifty-pound baby pushing up her organs into her throat, she was in no condition to help.

Much of the new furniture had been delivered already in the previous weeks as they had prepared for the move. The living room set was already in place with the sofas, new chairs and tables. All they needed in there was the entertainment center and TV. The baby's crib, changing table and dresser had already been set up in the nursery along with the gorgeous comfortable rocking chair. It was all simply waiting for their little baby to join the world. The room was beautiful. She couldn't have designed a better space for her baby to grow in.

Sometime earlier in the week, she and Greg had come to do some last minute preparations for the move and he had replaced the switch plate on the wall with the one he had gotten with the Phillies logo on it. It didn't match the décor at all but Cate absolutely loved it. It was an outward sign that Greg was mentally preparing for the arrival of the baby.

He never spoke much about how he felt about his impending fatherhood. As a rule, he was tight lipped about most things that didn't have to do with what they were going to have for dinner or what TV show they were going watch at night. She had grown accustomed to his quite musings about his inner workings. She could usually tell because his eyes would get this dark heavy wrinkle in between them and the blue would become very serious, almost murky with the thoughts and feelings swirling behind them. Only when prompted by her, would he offer an opinion or a grunt, yeah or nay, about something she'd asked. She wasn't overly concerned about it, however. She figured that he was in his processing mode. This was a huge change, all around. Between the move, saying goodbye to his past and the arrival of a newborn, he must be nearly overwhelmed. She was feeling the same way and she knew that they needed to give each other their space otherwise they'd be at each other's throats.

Right now, she wondered how he was doing. He had seemed so lost in his own thoughts when she had said goodbye to him earlier, like a little boy stuck at a crossroads without a compass or a map. She knew this was hard for him. He had spent so much time living in pain in that apartment. The emotional toll of having to learn to be a disabled man was hard enough, but with his pride and his penchant toward bitterness, he had learned to cast out the world and keep to the sanctuary of that apartment. He had made it his hideout. Saying goodbye to that lair was a scary prospect. Crossing the threshold into a new world was never his forte and this experience would be no different. Yet, she had faith that he would be ok, that he wouldn't regress back to his old dysfunctional mechanisms of comfort and disillusionment. His cynical outlook on life had been replaced with a sense of peace over the last few months. Some of it was because he wasn't in pain anymore. Some was because he wasn't high all of the time. He was clear to see the world for its potential with lucid eyes and maybe figure out that his obstacles weren't always as bad as they seemed.

Some of his success she knew was because of her. While she would never professionally condone a codependent relationship, she knew what her role was in his recovery. Sure, he loved her; deeply, wholeheartedly loved her, but she knew some of his emotional progress had been because of her guidance and presence in his life. If they had never started a relationship, he would still be in that apartment, sinking further into a convoluted web of lies, deceit, and maybe even psychosis. She didn't think of herself as his savior. No, she never wanted that title or role. She was more a conduit or catalyst, as it were, to get some inertia going. Sometimes people in dire situations just needed something to jumpstart their lives, a kind of motivation to make a change.

Cate laughed when she thought about all the things she had 'jumpstarted' in Greg's life. None of it was pressured by her and looking back, the majority of it was initiated by him and him alone. He sought out a real, adult, emotionally intimate relationship with another human being that wasn't Wilson. He had been able to come to terms on his own with his father's abuse and death; at the same time, accepting his illegitimate birth and a mother who had been an adulteress. He had proposed the commitment on higher level to be bonded to another person by convention in marriage. He had wanted the baby, a new home, living clean and sober. She was surprised he had gone along for the ride instead of limping as fast as he could for the hills. Really thinking on it, she was surprised she hadn't run for the hills when she saw him coming all those months ago. As each situation presented itself, she realized that these were things that she wanted as well

Cate's own life before she had met Greg had been nothing to write home about. She, too, had demons from her past. She was an adulteress just like his mother; knowingly, wittingly conspiring to sleep with another woman's husband out of some distorted belief that she was in love. She was selfish and egotistical. And she ran from her problems like Greg had, just like a pro. She had picked up her toys and retreated away from society and humanity to a polar ice cap, of all places. There she had stupidly engaged in a brief affair with a handsome younger man to make the pain of a relationship gone awry somewhat disappear and be forgotten. What she came away with was near death experience and a connection to an even more difficult man than the other two before. She had needed Greg House like she needed a whole in the head, but somehow he had wormed his way into her heart. He had changed her life, for the better. Some would say that was a miracle. Some would say it was clinically insane. And maybe at the time it was, but she couldn't deny that he made her feel whole, accepted, brilliant and needed. He fed her ego and gave her plenty of challenges to tackle. She had never wanted to fix him because she liked how he was. He wasn't different now because of her; he was just more stable and less likely to commit a felony under the diabolical guise of 'the right thing to do'. He was still grumpy, still sarcastic, still brilliant. And still an ass. But he was her ass. Life with him would certainly never be boring and she wouldn't have it any other way.

"Hey Pregos, you're wilting," Thirteen interrupted her thoughts, coming up to her with a tall bottle of water in her hand.

Cate looked up at the young doctor and smiled accepting the sweating cold bottle of water she must have grabbed from the refrigerator inside. "Sure make of fun of the fat pregnant lady who can't even get up to get herself a drink."

Thirteen perched her butt on the railing of the porch and took a sip of her own water. Her long reddish brown hair was pulled back into a high ponytail and she was wearing shorts that exposed her long, tanned, slim legs. Cate had to force herself not to sneer at her friend in jealousy over her ability to be so leggy and beautiful while she was so rotund and portly. "The guys want to know if the large chest needs to go into the master bedroom or the spare room."

Cate sipped her water and she felt refreshed in the afternoon heat. There was plenty of room for the antique trunk in their bedroom now that it had doubled in size. He had used it to keep spare blankets and sheets in since he didn't have a linen closet big enough in the apartment. They had two of those now amongst ten other upstairs closets so there was really no need to have it in their room. However, she figured that he would feel more comfortable if it were still at the foot of the bed just like it had been in the old place. "Have them bring it to our room and move it in front of the bed once they put it together."

"Aye, aye Captain," Thirteen said with a smirk as she headed back into the house.

Deciding that she needed to move around a bit, Cate pushed off the bench and descend the two steps to the walk. She strolled through the grass over to where there was a low-lying hedgerow. It was a neatly coiffed Forsythia bush that had turned a deep shade of green now that summer was in full swing. She made a mental note to get a hold of Bonnie to find out the name of the landscaper so she could retain their services. They had already decided that they would bring Leidy, his cleaning lady, over to the new house with a substantial raise for the immense size and had even had the kind woman on the look out for someone to come help with the baby from time to time. Cate still wasn't sure if she would be returning to work or not after their son was born and she wanted to find a suitable nanny just in case.

Cate saw her neighbor come out of her front door and walk down her sidewalk to retrieve the mail from the floral decorated mailbox. The woman waved happily at her in greeting and to Cate's surprise came over to the hedges without a second thought.

The woman was younger, by about five or six years, and had a pleasant countenance. She looked like a typical suburban housewife, amiable, understated and unlike the glamorous looking women on _Desperate Housewives_ or the trashy women of _Real Housewives of New Jersey_. Cate bit her lip a little nervous to meet her because she knew that Greg would rather have lived in those crazy fictional and/or dysfunctional neighborhoods full of voyeuristic drama, instead of the quintessential existence of suburbia. She could tell immediately that he wouldn't gel with this one.

"Hiya! I'm Peggy." She stuck her hand out exuberantly to shake. "I see you're moving in today."

"Yes," Cate said taking her hand. "I'm Cate. It's nice to meet you."

"Aww, you're pregnant!" Peggy beamed at her and touched her hand to Cate's belly. Taking a little aback by the woman's forwardness, Cate sort of stepped backward instinctively and brought her own hand protectively over her stomach as if to shield her from more uninvited touching. _Why did people think that it was ok to touch a pregnant woman's belly? Especially strangers?_ "You look like you're about ready to pop!"

Cate smiled wanly at her. "Not quite, the middle of August."

Peggy gave her a sympathetic smile. "Not fun to be pregnant in the middle of summer. With my Caleb, I was all sorts of swollen, just like you."

Cate grimaced. _Oh, God he was going to hate, hate, hate her_. "Yes, water retention is definitely not a picnic."

"Well, I'm so glad to have new neighbors again," Peggy went on. "The last couple was such a lovely pair. We used to do game nights and potlucks. It's a shame that his job moved them across country. What is that your husband does?"

Cate bit her tongue at the assumption that she was a housewife too. Not that she wasn't going to be that in the coming weeks but, she didn't care for the label nonetheless. "My husband and I are both doctors."

"Doctors? How wonderful. Do you share a practice together?"

"No. I'm a psychiatrist and Greg is in diagnostic medicine." When Peggy looked at her quizzically Cate went on to explain. "He's very specialized and works with strange, infectious diseases."

"Ooo, sounds very ominous," she replied with a dramatic flair and a shudder before bursting into a nervous giggle that Cate was beginning to realize was the woman's actual laugh.

Cate laughed. "It can be."

"Is that your husband, Greg?" she inquired point to someone over Cate's shoulder. Cate turned and saw Wilson coming up the walk with one of Greg's guitars in his hand.

Cate turned back to the younger woman with a sardonic smile. "No, that's his best friend. The one coming up the walk, mocking him with cane – that's my husband." Apparently his self-evaluative journey had come to a close and he had shown up without her knowing.

Peggy smiled barely managing to cover her shock. "Oh… he looks nice."

Cate looked at her oddly as Peggy gaped weirdly back at her. An awkward silence hung between them as Peggy's perky demeanor didn't quite know what to make of the brusque appearance of her husband.

House took a detour from the sidewalk and across the grass to where she stood with their new neighbor. Cate closed her eyes and prayed that he had acquired laryngitis on his way over because he had done some severe primal screaming in his quest for spiritual cleansing. He came up to her with a huff of annoyance. Cate cringed. _No such luck_.

"Sweetheart, Wilson refuses to set up the bondage chair in the basement," he announced loudly in his mischief-making voice.

Cate leveled a glare at him and he beamed a smirk at her before turning to Peggy. He gave the woman an over exaggerated shrug. "I swear, you just can't get good help these days," he declared holding his hand out to her. "Hi. Greg House."

Peggy gaped at him stunned by his whirlwind and deviant pseudo-fetish. Cate suspected the woman didn't even know what a bondage chair was let alone engaged in anything remotely deviated from the missionary position. But then again it was always the quiet ones that were the most perverted. Taking his hand, she chuckled nervously, "Peggy Nusbaum."

House flashed his baby blues at her. "Nice to meet you Peggy Nusbaum."

Peggy cleared her throat and regained some of her composure awkward as it was. "I was just congratulating your wife on the upcoming blessed event."

"Oh what, the bun in the oven? Not mine," he stated. "She had a little sumpin, sumpin too much to drink one night if you know what I… ouch…"

Cate pinched his arm and he shut his mouth looking at her deeply offended she wasn't interested in playing his perverse little game. "Stop it." She warned between her teeth and turned to Peggy. "Don't listen to him. He's a pathological liar."

Peggy giggled and waved her hand at the two of them. "Oh, you guys are a hoot!"

Greg tapped her butt cheek. "Yeah hear that honey? We're a hoot!" he mimicked Peggy's enthusiasm.

Cate rolled her eyes and plastered on a fake smile. "Oh, yeah you're a regular hoot and a half."

"Well, listen… once you guys get settled in, we'll have to barbeque," Peggy offered. "My husband Steve would just love to meet both of you."

"Um, yeah, let me check my calendar," Greg said looking up to sky. "I'm thinking 'no'."

Dumbfounded, Peggy stared at him and blinked in confusion.

Cate gave him a shove to the arm. "Why don't you go find something useful to do?"

He opened his mouth to protest like a child but then something else caught his attention and he bellowed across the yard. "Kutner, I'll fucking take out your spleen with a pair of tweezers if there's even one scratch on that guitar case." Much to Cate's relief he limped after his littlest duckling threatening more bodily harm with blunt objects on his way.

"I'm so sorry," Cate apologized. "My husband is very anti-social and has multiple personality disorder."

Peggy chuckled merrily at her and then leaned in conspiratorially. "The Granderson's two houses over really do have a bondage chair in the basement."

Cate laughed apprehensively and looked at the house Peggy was clandestinely pointing at. "Really?" There was a balding man with a potbelly washing his Lexus in the driveway. He looked like an accountant who spent all of his time behind a desk, not strapped to a bondage table.

"Mhmm," she affirmed. "We call her Cruella de Ville. He used to do books for a strip club in Trenton. He met her there. Divorced his wife of twenty years and married his dominatrix. Can you believe it?"

Cate nodded her head slowly. Ok, so maybe they were living on Wisteria Lane after all. Her dysfunctional, former drug addict, snarky husband would fit in like a duck to water. Who knew?

_Yup, life with him was never boring._


	44. Chapter 44: Grown Up

Sessions II – Nine Months

Chapter 44: Grown Up

Hours later, House traipsed upstairs to see if Cate wanted any cold pizza after having locked up for the night. The movers had left by late afternoon, all of the furniture was settled, boxes put in the respective rooms. Thirteen and Cameron had sat on the kitchen floor and unpacked box after box of dishes for his mother and Taub's wife to wash and put away while he and the guys set up the man cave. They had claimed there was a lot to do in there when they really played pool for about an hour and a half before ordering pizza and beer. All the while, Cate and Cuddy had camped out in the bedroom unpacking their boxes of clothes and linens. Everyone had since left and the house was quiet, nearly settled and fit for living, but really, really quiet. That was going to take some getting used to.

He carried a paper plate with the pizza on it into their bedroom. The light was on, casting a soft glow over the cream colored carpet. His feet were bare and he kind of liked the feeling of the wall-to-wall carpet on his toes. It would sure beat the hell out of getting up in the winter onto a cold bare wood floor. When he didn't see her on their bed, he dipped his head into the bathroom. "Cate? I have a slice of pizza."

She wasn't in there either. _Where the hell could she have gone?_ The place was big, that was for sure, but he didn't think he could seriously lose his wife in their own house.

"I'm in here," came her small voice. It cracked on a sob and he poked his head into the walk in closet to find her sitting miserably on the floor in the midst of their hanging clothes.

"What's wrong?" he asked kneeling down in front of her, placing the plate onto the floor beside him. Her lip protruded out and fresh tears rolled down her face. "Why are you sitting in the closet crying?"

"I… don't…. know," she sobbed, taking a heaving breath between her words. With her eyes and face, red and stained with tears, she looked like a toddler who had just lost her favorite doll.

He had to purse his lips together to keep from laughing insensitively at her. She looked so adorably depressed and was obviously distressed but, for the life of him, he couldn't figure out why. "Are you ok?"

"N-n-no," she replied in a small sad voice.

"Is the baby ok?" He was beginning to get worried.

"Y-yes, it's not that," she murmured rolling her eyes impatiently at him.

"Well, I'm not a mind reader," he complained. "You're going to have to give me a clue."

She looked around the closet and wiped at her nose with her fingers. "All the clothes fit with extra room," she cried again pointing to the empty space on the bars on either side of her.

House looked at the clothing and then back at her. "Yeah? So? That's like every woman's dream, right?"

"You have your side and I have my side," she stated like that was key to everything, tears running anew from her eyes.

He still wasn't getting it. "And you're afraid our clothes will live a solitary existence? Far away from each other, never to mingle again?"

"Don't you get it?" she huffed at him throwing her hands into her lap in frustration.

"Frankly, no, I have no idea what you're talking about."

"This place it too big!" she exclaimed. "Its so much bigger than the apartment. It's not cozy. It doesn't feel like a home."

He placed his hand on her foot and sighed. "It will, in time." Nothing ever felt like home when you first got there. That usually came later when you weren't really prepared to leave it. He knew from experience. More than he ever cared to.

"Greg, I feel like we made a huge mistake," she pouted her beautiful lips at him.

"We didn't make a mistake," he told her inching closer to her. "It's just new, different. You'll get used to it."

"I don't want to have to 'get used to it'," she complained. "I didn't want to leave the apartment. I only moved here because you wanted to!"

_Whoa_… what the hell was this all about? Where was this coming from? He thought they were together on this and that they were on the same page. What the hell had changed?

"Now you tell me this?" he questioned, floored by what she was saying to him. "After everything is done? That you never wanted to move?" He couldn't believe she was having second thoughts about this. He stared at her in shock. She shrugged at him and picked at the carpet beneath her crossed legs, not meeting his eyes. House closed his eyes and took in a breath. This was not at all the reaction he expected from her. "Cate, you can't just change your mind now. It's done. We're here. There's no going back."

"I know," she said tears coming again. Her hand came up to cover her mouth as she cried harder. "I just wish we could go back to the way it was."

"Well, we can't," he stated, maybe a bit too harshly. She looked at him imploringly, like she needed him to be the rock, the one to make it all ok. How did this happen? He was the childish adolescent who needed to be reassured, who needed two hours alone with his piano in an empty apartment to regroup and reconcile his past. She was the calm one; she was the one who was ok with change. _When did their roles reverse? When did he become the one to be secure in moving forward toward a new future? How come he had to be the grown up?_

"I know we can't," she said sharply.

At a loss, he threw his hand up in the air. "What do you expect me to do?" he asked her feeling like the plushly carpeted floor was falling out from under him. "Because I can't fix this."

"Nothing." She shook her head and sighed a shuddering breath. "I don't want you to do anything."

"I don't understand." He was confused and he felt so helpless. He didn't know what to say or what to do. If she didn't want him to do anything then why was she sitting here crying about it?

"I just need you to hold me," she pleaded. "Hold me and tell me that you aren't going to run away and leave me standing here alone with a new house and a new baby and nowhere left to turn."

House heart melted and it all become crystal clear to him at that very moment. He pulled her into his arms and held her tightly to his chest kissing her hair as she cried into him. That was the truth of it. She was scared, terrified that he was going to leave. She feared that he would do exactly what he had always done in the past, run away from his problems, avoid confrontation, and skip out on his responsibilities. "I'm not going to leave you. I'm not going to leave the baby. I promise." He kissed her hair again and squeezed her tighter to him. "Cate, I love you and I can't live without you. I'm not going anywhere." He ran his hand over her hair and down her back soothingly rubbing her with reassuring circles until her cries subsided to quiet whimpers. "And bedsides, I really like this house. It has a man cave."

She laughed into his chest but it came out like a little sob. Sniffing, she looked up at him and he took her face in his hands. "Do you really think that I would leave all this?" he questioned, looking around. "I finally get a closet that can hold all of my sneakers _and_ your shoes with room for more! What's not to love?"

She laughed again and sniffled. "There's a linen closet in our bathroom and two sinks. I'm not going to know what to do with myself."

"I could use both and crowd you out if you need me to make it feel like old times," he offered.

She smiled and ran her hands over his arms as he still held her face. Touching his lips to hers, he kissed her gently hoping to send all of his love and need for her through his touch. He really hated to see her cry. It broke his heart when she was upset because he really didn't know what to do for her. He was so incapable of handling a crying woman. It just wasn't in his nature.

Pulling back, she took a restorative breath and swiped at her eyes with her fingers. She was done crying, that was her cue. "I guess I'm just tired."

"Yeah," he agreed scratching at the back of his head with a sigh of relief that this little mental break down was over. He looked at her belly protruding over her lap like a beach ball. Stress and pregnancy hormones were a bitch. "And hugely pregnant," he added.

She gave him a disgruntled glance from the side of her eyes. "Yes. Thanks for stating the obvious. Now get up Gimpy and help me off the floor."

"Oh, when you put it that way," he griped sarcastically, kneeling before he could stand.

She floundered around the floor of the closet like a turtle on its back as she stubbornly tried to get up without his help. He stood and enjoyed the show for a moment to get her back for her name-calling but then took pity on her and stretched out his hand. Pulling her to standing, he wrapped his arms around her caressing the sides of her belly, their baby in between them, as his hands came around to her back. "You know, you can't scare me like that."

"Like what?"

"You're supposed to be the emotionally stable one," he told her. "When I'm the one that has to be, you know we're in real trouble."

"I think you did pretty good," she applauded him. "You didn't really freak out. That says something."

"It was really more because you completely caught me off guard," he told her. "I was kind of stunned." He leaned his forehead against hers. "Do you really not want to live here?"

Sighing, she touched her hand to the back of his head and kissed him with her swollen lips. "I liked the apartment. All of my first memories with you are there. It's where we made our baby. I'm going to miss that."

His breath hitched in his chest and he blinked back a sting that suddenly came to his eyes. "Yeah, I know." He brushed her hair back over her shoulder and looked into her eyes. "We can practice a whole lot of baby making here, though."

She smiled at him. "If I wasn't the size of a whale, I'd say let's christen our new bedroom."

He grinned, contemplating her disclaimer. He knew she was feeling terribly uncomfortable but he thought she was sexy no matter what shape she was. "Sheldon said we could still do it for another four weeks."

Her lips quirked into a shy smile as his hands roamed down her back to cup her ass. "You're your are right."

"I'm always right."

"Saddle or doggie?" she proposed.

"Ooo you filthy woman, you," he growled, nipping at her neck. "I love it when you talk dirty."

She squealed in delight and dragged him into large room. "I'm thinking doggie with the assistance of lots of pillows," she chose excitedly.

"Aww, yes!" House pumped his fist in excitement and hurriedly followed to meet her by the side of the bed. "I'm so loving pregnancy!"

"We better get as much of this as we can in," she said beginning to take off her clothes, striping naked in front of him like she was going to the gym and not about to have sex in their new bedroom. "We're not going to want to touch each other for quite some time after the baby is born."

Whipping his shirt off, he kicked off his sneakers and began to unbutton his jeans. "Speak for yourself. I could be up for forty eight hours straight, have a screaming toddler in my ear for half of that time and have spent the rest of it in clinic duty and I'd _still_ want to touch you in all your naughty places."

She giggled as she knelt on the mattress and grabbed pillows from the top to place under her belly and hips. "Well, I guess we better accept the fact that we might just wind up with Irish twins then."

Arching an eyebrow at her, he paused at the edge of the bed. "Irish twins?"

She giggled at him and came over to run her hands up his bare chest. "Irish twins are two babies born with a 12 month period of each other, Doctor."

"Ah yes, good old Catholic values at work," he quipped, trailing his fingers down her naked back. "When the 'poke and hope', doesn't quite work out the way you wanted."

She dipped her tongue in to kiss him before pulling back and looking him in the eye. "There's always the 'pull and pray'."

He kissed her deeply brushing his fingertips over her breasts. "Right now, I'm only interested in you ass up and me inside of you for the whole ride."

Her lips curled into a purr and she gasped a little, her eyes going dark with desire. "I love it when you get in touch with your inner caveman."

"I can be your caveman whenever you want," he told her before running his tongue along the delicate curve of her shoulder. "Now bend over woman and let's christen this house!"


	45. Chapter 45: Game Day

Sessions II – Nine Months

Chapter 45: Game Day

Cate made her way slowly… very, very slowly down the millions of steps it seemed to the row where their seats were located. The last time she had been to Citizen's Bank Park, the home of the Phillies, was the night of the World Series last October. Greg had taken her on a surprise date as a way to encourage her affection for him. Last time, Greg was the one slower than a turtle as he maneuvered the stairs with his cane and the pain in his leg. This time she was the one to traverse the steps with utter caution lest she fall ass over teakettle down the rest of the way. As it was, she was feeling like the fuzzy green Philly Fanatic the way her big belly was protruding in front of her. She didn't need to create a whole scene with paramedics and the like if she took a header down the steps. Greg was patiently trailing a step behind her navigating the steps like a pro now that he was on Methadone and couldn't feel a thing. His hand was on her shoulder as a precaution to keep her upright, just incase.

If these tickets hadn't been a birthday gift, Cate would have passed on the venture. Forty years old and eight months pregnant, at ballgame, in the July heat, was not a comfortable proposition. However, it was the Phillies vs. the Mets and her team was coming on strong into the All-star break. She couldn't really pass up the opportunity to see them live for the last time this season. Because once the baby was here, she doubted that they have the time or inclination to go.

"It's such a lovely day out, darling, don't you think?" Blythe cooed from further behind. Dearest Greg, in his infinite wisdom, had purchased the tickets _before_ they had found out about their parents clandestine affair. He had originally intended it to be a nice day out at the ballpark with their parents as company. Since the 'outing', however, it had turned into a weird version of a double date. Neither one of them were too keen on it, but it was out of either of their hands at this point.

Blythe was funny though; the woman was just as excited, if not more that the rest of them, to attend the game. Cate thought she looked so sweet in her red Phillies t-shirt and her pink baseball cap that her father had given her before the game. The kicker was the jeans, however. How a seventy-year-old woman could look so adorable in a simple pair of denim pants and a pair of Keds was beyond her. Cate suspected that this was the first, if not the only, time the gentile woman had ever let such a casual fabric touch her skin. Blythe House just wasn't the kind of woman who put on jeans to do anything but pull up weeds in the backyard and even then her pants were probably a lightweight khaki cropped type. Respectable Southern women just didn't do denim. But nevertheless, Greg's mother had on her patriotic Phillies colors to show her solidarity with her 'boyfriend's' favorite team. The game hadn't even started yet and she was having a fantastic time.

Once they reached their row, Greg stopped and stepped to the side. "Princess Pee of the Small Bladder is going to need to get out frequently so everyone in ahead," he said as he motioned for his mother and her father to go ahead of them. Blythe shimmied her way into the row all the while gaping at the amazing surroundings in wonderment.

"This place is so huge," she gushed. "Look at the size of that screen!"

"See I told you it was something," Cate's father continued. He'd been bragging about the stadium with all of its amenities and definitely their cheese steaks since before they had even got into the car back in Princeton. He was still beside himself that they were on the field level and behind the on-deck circle. Cheapo that he was, her father would never pay the ticket price that Greg had for this little outing. It was fine though; their parents were thoroughly enjoying themselves. Cate was happy that Greg was showing an interest in being a family and doing family things, albeit in between the furious texting he was doing every five minutes to the team. They had a particularly difficult case this past week and their patient had turned for the worse sometime early this morning.

"Patient any better?" she asked as they settled into their seats.

"No. They can't control the fever. Brought him down a few degrees, but pretty soon his brain will boil and that'll be the end of it," he said pushing his cell phone back into his jeans pocket. "He's in hypertensive crisis. And we can't figure out why."

"Well, I'm sure you'll have some sort of light bulb moment and you'll figure it out," she replied putting her hand on his arm. His skin was warm and the little hairs tickled her palm making her smile.

Turning his head to her he leaned over and gave her a peck on the lips. "How are you feeling?"

"Fine, now that I'm sitting," she answered. "I'll probably have to pee in five minutes but I'll hold it until the second inning."

"Oh that's right," he rolled his eyes. "Can't miss Chase's first at bat."

"You know it," she giggled.

"Personally, I don't get," he said shifting lower to slouch his six foot frame into the small seat.

"Get what?"

"What you see in him," he said looking out onto the field through his mirrored sunglasses. She couldn't see his eyes and it looked thoroughly sexy.

Cate smoothed her hand over her belly, glad that she had worn her denim overalls because they gave her the most amount of room without feeling restricted. "What's there to see? He's amazing."

"I'm amazing," he declared. "He's just some lucky chump who gets paid tons of money to toss a little ball around a field."

Cate giggle at him and leaned in closely. "Are you jealous of him? Of some guy you don't even know?"

"Please," he scoffed at her. "He's an awesome ball player but he's got porn star hair."

Cate gasped in mock horror holding her finger up to stop him. "I told you, we weren't gonna cross that line."

He laughed at her. "What? It's true. It's like permanently shellacked to his head under that cap."

"You're over it, both feet and ass, into dangerous territory," she argued looking stubbornly away from him. "I'm not talking about this anymore."

He laughed mirthlessly at her. He absolutely loved to tease her about her teen angst crush on second baseman, Chase Utley. If she could, she would have crossed her arms over her chest, but due to their proximity and her baby belly, she bumped her father with her elbow. She slid a glance at him and saw him leaning in whispering something into Blythe's ear that caused the older woman to giggle like a schoolgirl. Cate forgot all about being perturbed at her husband and instead raised her eyebrows at him speaking to him wordlessly about the debacle going on to their immediate right. He made a face and turned his attention away shrugging it off as the players took to the field to start the game. Sure, he wasn't the one sitting like a sardine right next to freaking Ozzie and Harriet making out like they were back in the day. He didn't really have to see it or hear it.

The game started with out a hitch and Utley hit a line drive double to center field. Cate was stoked, her boy was strong right out of the gate and Ryan Howard drove him in for a two run double off of Santana. True to form, she did have to go to the bathroom by the second inning and managed to traverse the steps up and down without incident. Greg had acquired a big thing of cotton candy by the time she got back and she spent the next twenty minutes picking at it while he wasn't looking.

Sometime in the fourth inning, Blythe leaned forward and tapped Cate on the leg. "You know dear, wouldn't it be just adorable if you named the little one after one of the players?"

Cate started to laugh as Greg choked on his mouthful of Cracker Jacks that he had also gotten and hid on his other side from her. Apparently, she was good enough to split the cotton candy with but Cracker Jacks were a deal breaker. "I am not naming my kid after anyone from the Phillies," he muttered in between chews and coughs.

"What's wrong with that," her father griped. "There are worse people you could be named after."

"Ryan is a darling name," Blythe went on.

"Kid's gonna look nothing like Ryan Howard," Greg mumbled under his breath. Cate rolled her eyes at him knowing full well he was referring to the fact that Ryan Howard was behemoth of a black man. "Might as well call him Foreman." Cate pinched him to get him to stop.

"Or Jason, or Shane," his mother continued. "Or Victor. But I like Shane; Shane is such a strong name, don't you think?"

"Like Shane the mysterious gunslinger," her father added.

"Oh yes, Alan Ladd, such a handsome devil," Blythe waved her hand at Greg trying to get his attention. "Remember honey, we used to camp out on that old green sofa and watch westerns with franks and beans like the cowboys did?"

"Shut them up," Greg growled keeping his sunglass covered eyes away from his mother like maybe his mother would give up if she couldn't see them.

Cate hushed him, nudging him in the ribs with her elbow. "Stop, that's actually a nice memory."

"Remember, honey?" his mother prompted happily as if she were having a conversation at the dinner table.

"Yes, mom, I remember," he said in that little voice. His phone vibrated against his hip again and he pulled it out.

Cate shifted against the plastic of her seat. The sun was warm and she was perspiring. Wiping her brow with her napkin, she leaned over to read his text. Patient's fever was not responding and now he was in cardiac arrhythmia.

She watched him push the button to dial the team. "Delirium, elevated white blood count and CPK, increased muscular activity and rhabdomyolysis." Foreman voice sounded out of the tiny speaker as soon as the team answered his call, knowing full well there was no need for pleasantries. The crowd noise was loud so he held it up to his ear in between them.

"Differential diagnosis…"

"Tetanus?"

"Parkinson's?"

"Normal Pressure Hydrocephalus?"

"Post concussion syndrome?"

"Not with the fever," Greg shot that theory down.

"The only thing we know is that he came into the ER with kidney failure and head trauma, because he was tripped out on cocaine," Thirteen's voice relayed.

"Parkinson's looks best," Greg said.

Cate listened to them talk and something popped into the back of her mind. "Wait, you said he was high on cocaine?"

"Yeah, but he came down hours ago," Kutner told her.

"Who is this guy is? Is he homeless?"

"No, he's a professor at Rutgers," Foreman answered her.

Cate looked at Greg. "He may be on antipsychotics."

"You go from homeless man to college professor and get antipsychotics?" Greg took his sunglasses off and stated at her. "What are you saying?"

"He may have schizophrenia or bipolar disorder, " Cate explained. "It's rare but some neuroleptics can cause all the symptoms you're talking about. Levadopa is a Parkinson's drug also used as an antipsychotic."

"I always knew one of my professors had to be a schitzo," Taub echoed in the background.

"He has Neuroleptic Malignant Syndrome," Greg declared confidently. "Start him on a bromocriptine and dantrolene sodium drip. And then get him in an ice bath and text me when he improves." He hung up the phone and grabbed her face planting a big kiss on her lips. "You are a genius."

Cate shifted again to look at him. "Just know my psychotics."

"You want a job?" he winked at her.

Cate chuckled. "You got a day care plan?"

"No but I got an office," he joked. "We could store the pack and play in there?"

Cate shook her head and rubbed her belly letting out a tiny belch. "Excuse me," she sighed, cotton candy was being unfriendly. "I'm thinking infectious rare diseases and Kutner with sharp objects, probably not a very baby friendly environment."

"No probably not," he agreed with a laugh. "Heartburn?"

"Yeah a little," she wined.

"That's what you get for eating my cotton candy. It's karma."

"I'll remember that next time I don't have a foot shoved into my gallbladder," she groused and then repositioned her self to take a deeper breath. "Or a head in my sacrum."

"It's only a few more weeks," he reminded her empathetically.

"I know," she sighed. "I just feel like I've been pregnant forever."

"Tell me about it!"

"And you still don't have a name for my grandson yet," her father tossed into the mix eavesdropping while half-paying attention to the game and his date.

"Daddy, leave it alone," Cate warned.

"Don't worry Big Don," Greg said with a blunt but definitive edge of sarcasm. "You'll be the first to know."

"Damn straight," he father huffed at him, puffing his chest out. "I'll shoot your ass if I'm not!"

Greg shook his head on a disgruntled laugh.

Chase Utley was up again and Cate leaned forward to get a better look. "Let's go baby, swing for the fences!" she called cupping her hands around her mouth so he could hear her. She saw Greg shake his head in amusement as he watched her. She was completely embarrassing but she didn't care.

First pitch was a strike. He stepped out the batter's box to reset. Second was a curve ball for a ball. "Good eye, good eye!" she cheered.

Third came in right over the plate like a meatball. She saw it Chase saw it. She started to get excited. _Crack_! The ball made contact right on the sweet spot and soared out to right field. Cate was on the edge of her seat. It kept going and going and then flew past the outfielder's mitt and over the wall. Homerun.

Cate jumped up along with 50,000 other people to scream their cheers.

"What the fuck?!" Greg complained in irritation from his seat. Cate felt dampness seep into her lap. She had accidentally knocked over his soda cup as she jumped up in exhilaration. Looking down offhandedly, she surveyed the damage.

Greg looked up at her with supreme irritation because his pants were wet, except it wasn't his lap it was down by his knees and his sneakers. A little bit got on her dad's shoes as well. She bit her lip to keep from laughing. "Oh my god! I'm so sorry. I must have hit the soda when I jumped up."

Her lap was damp and warm and the soda was starting to run down her legs.

"Cate."

"What? I'm sorry, I'll get you another one."

"Cate!"

"Catie girl? What's going on?"

She huffed at Greg in irritation. Why was he being such a baby about this? It was just a fucking soda. Grimacing as a Braxton Hicks contraction totally put her back into vice grip, she sat down. God, she'd been sitting for too long. Suddenly, his hands came up to her face to force her to look at him. She slapped at his hands to get him off of her but it only made his grip firmer.

"Cate that wasn't my soda," he said staring into her eyes, deadly serious. "Your water just broke."


	46. Chapter 46: Special Delivery

Sessions II – Nine Months

Chapter 46: Special Delivery

_A/N: Well, here's the moment you've all been waiting for…._

* * *

House held onto Cate's face trying to get her to come to grips with what just happened. Her eyes flashed at him in confusion. She looked down at the cup of soda that was still in the drink holder next to him. Seeing that she hadn't spilled anything, she immediately began to panic.

"No. No. NO! This isn't possible," she exclaimed and shook her head wrenching herself away from his grasp.

"It is," he said calmly. _Five weeks to early, but completely possible_.

"No," her voice escalated in pitch. "No, Greg, it's too early. The baby's not ready."

"Gregory, we need to get her out of here," his mother declared calmly.

Big Don leaned over and looked at him. "What do we do?"

House looked at his father-in-law and his mother. He could see the concern in their eyes and he knew that he was going to have to be the level headed one about this.

"Gahhh," Cate moaned. "What the hell? Why is this happening? Its too early."

House breathed. Contractions were starting. He looked at his watch, making a mental note of the time. "Ok. We need to get you to a hospital."

"We have to go back to Princeton-Plainsboro," she said tugging on his arm. "We have to call Sheldon."

"We need to get to a hospital now. We don't have time to drive an hour back to Plainsboro."

"Especially not after your water broke, darling," his mother said calmly.

The people in the crowd were beginning to get wind of what was happening and a few of the women around echoed his mother's words. "_Yes, you need to go now_." "_Don't worry hon, everything will be fine_."

House rose from his seat and held his hands out to Cate so she could support her weight as she stood. "Greg, I don't want to give birth in a strange hospital. I want Sheldon there." Another contraction hit her and she paused in her step for a breath. He checked his watch. Two minutes apart. That was fucking fast. Way too fucking fast.

Deciding to placate her, considering she'd been an emotional wreck a week ago over moving to a new house, he figure it would be best if he lied to her and make it seem like they were going to do the best they could to get back home. "We're going to go to the car and see what happens. Ok?"

Gritting her teeth as the contraction peaked and dissipated, she nodded at him. "Ok."

"I'll call Sheldon when we get to the car," he told her.

"Is there anything we can do, sweetheart, " his mother inquired taking Cate's purse from the stands and wiping it dry with some napkins. In her confusion, Cate had forgotten it there under her seat.

"No, just follow us up to the car where we'll all go to the hospital," he said giving them both a look indicating that he had no intention of going anywhere but the nearest hospital in Philly.

"Jefferson Memorial," her father mouthed to him and he nodded behind her back.

Excruciatingly, painstakingly slow, House helped Cate take one step at a time up to the concourse level. Every four steps she had to stop because another contraction would grab a hold of her and not let go. They were coming fast and furious, way faster than he was comfortable with. At this rate they might not make it out of the stadium. By the top of the stairs, they were a minute-fifteen apart.

He maneuvered her trough the tunnel to the inner concourse level where they could exit the stadium. She gripped onto his hand and doubled over as a really strong one hit her. She screamed out and he had to hold her upright. "Breathe, breathe," he reminded her.

Her breaths were coming in pants now and he was really starting to get worried. This baby was not going to wait. Bringing her over to the wall, he propped her up and looked around for a security officer. He didn't see any and turned to Don. "I need you to go find someone to call an ambulance." Don looked at his daughter with concern in his eyes. "Now!" Doing as ordered, her father took off in the opposite direction.

Cate screamed a little more and then looked up at him with sheer terror in her eyes. "Greg, It's coming. I feel something."

"What? What do you feel?" he urged, holding onto her hand as she squeezed his bones together in a death grip.

"Something's hanging," she panted. "Oh god it hurts!"

"Hanging? Like dangling out?"

"Mhmm," she was beyond words at the contraction hit its high point. House looked around. There were people milling about with drinks and snacks in their hands, children with flags and teddy bear souvenirs, someone sweeping garbage into a bin. He closed his eyes and turned to his mother.

"Stand right here," he said positioning her in front of Cate. "And give me some hand sanitizer."

"What for?" his mother looked at him.

"Just do it!"

Digging into her purse, she took out the bottle and squeezed some into his hand. He looked at Cate as another contraction took her over. "I'm sorry to do this sweetheart but, I have no choice." He undid the buckle of her overall strap and stuck his hand into her pants to feel around for what she was sensing. He needed to make sure that the umbilical cord had not prolapsed.

Reaching down into her panties he felt around and nothing was 'sticking out' per say.

She grunted caught up in pain and clutched onto his shoulders bearing down. "Don't push!" Threading his finger up into the cavity, he felt it, something soft and slippery. But then he froze as he realized what he was feeling when he counted five tiny little bumps.

_Fuck_.

It was a foot.

Taking his hand out, he shook her to focus on him. "Look at me. What ever you do, do not push, you understand me?" She didn't respond she just cried out in pain. "Do not push!"

"Gregory, what is wrong?" his mother asked, interpreting the look in his eyes.

"This baby is coming right now," he said his eyes searching for a place that was clean enough to do the difficult delivery. "Get Don on the phone and tell him to hurry the fuck up. I need paramedics right away." Cate began to cry as his mother immediately took out her phone and made the call. "Cate, can you walk?"

"Greg, I can't have this baby now," she cried.

"You don't have a choice."

"No. I can't do this. Not now, not here!"

"Yes, Cate. This baby's coming right now."

"No. No. No. No…" she repeated frantically as true panic began to set in. "Greg, take me to a hospital. I'll go to a hospital in Philly. I don't have to go to Princeton. I'll take this hospital. I just can't have the baby now!"

House grabbed onto her face and held it between his hands forcing her to see only him.

"There's no time to go to a hospital. The baby's footling breech," he told her bluntly. The baby was presenting backwards, feet first. Very risky for both the mother and child. Better to tell her the truth so she could accept that she had no choice in the matter. She began to freak out, as she knew in that very second how incredibly dangerous the delivery could be. "Cate, look at me. I need you to focus. If we don't get this baby out safely right now, he will die and so could you."

House could vaguely hear his mother in gasp in terror behind him but he couldn't worry about her right now. He had to get them someplace clean so he could deliver his son before the baby suffocated to death. Cate cried loudly as her situation became clear in her mind and another contraction doubled her over in pain. Her hot tears ran down her face between her skin and the palms of his hands. "Cate, are you with me?" She nodded her whole body trembling from pain and fear.

His eyes scanned the area and landed on a concierge at one of the skybox entries. It was as good as any. Gently, but quickly her guided her over to the door where the woman in a navy blue blazer and stewardess tie reached out her hand to stop them.

"My wife is going to deliver a baby any second now so you can save your stupid spiel, and just get us inside that suite."

To his surprise, the woman didn't hesitate for a second. She opened the door and announced to the guests inside to clear out and that they had a medical emergency. She was on her radio calling for security and the paramedics. House led her to into the room instantly looking for the things he might be able to use to help.

"I need towels, an oxygen tank, some kind of really small tubing, surgical tape, some shoe strings and something sharp to cut the cord with," he listed to the woman. "Oh, and trash bags."

He guided Cate to floor as the woman called over her radio to acquire those things. Hopefully the medics would be there any minute now and he could use the actual medical stuff they had in their packs, instead of MacGyvering it with whatever was handy. "Mom, take those pillows off the couch and kneel down behind her supporting her back so she's a little upright."

Wordlessly, his mother did as she was instructed while he slipped off Cate's pants and underwear. Sure as day, he saw a purple little foot dangling out of her vagina. His heart started to beat wildly in his chest and his blood pounded in his ears. He took in a deep breath. He needed to calm himself down if he was going to be able to do this. "Of course, my kid has to come out in the most difficult birthing presentation known to man."

His mother looked at him with concern deep in her eyes. "Are you sure you can do this?"

"We'll be ok," he lied. He had never delivered a footling breech before. He had watched someone once in India, but the baby was stillborn. He couldn't think right now about how quickly the situation could turn.

Big Don showed up at the door to the skybox suite along with two paramedics a gurney and their bags. It eased his mind a little. At least they would have some medical equipment. "Ok sir, we'll take it from here, " said the female.

"No you won't. I'm a doctor and this is my wife."

"How is she?" Don asked catching his breath.

"The baby is breech," Blythe told him.

House motioned to the male paramedic. "Run 250 cc's normal saline bolus."

The paramedic broke out a bag and threaded the catheter into her vein while the other one spread towels around and under her bottom.

"I've got to push!" she screamed clutching onto his mother's hands. "He's coming!"

House took a deep breath and positioned his hands by the opening. "Ok, Cate, we're set. Push!" Cate yelled out as she bore down pushing with all of her might. Another leg rotated out, purple but chunky and fat. House guided the legs gently so as not to startle the baby and have it jerk its head and possibly cut off circulation in the cord. No pulling, he remembered no pulling. Pulling caused the head to hyperextend and could also pinch the cord.

Another contraction came. "Push." She cried out her body and her legs shaking with the effort. His mother squeezed her hands tightly giving her support and resistance.

"Body's coming," he said. The baby was rotating to the side, which was good. The very worst way this could happen was if the baby's back was facing the mother's back, it made for a definite compression of the cord. Cate gave another strong push.

"Ok. Stop. Stop. Don't push anymore." He looked at the paramedic to his left. "The head is stuck, it's compressing the cord."

Cate screamed, delirious with pain and fear.

House was sweating and the tension in the room was almost overwhelming. Wiping his brow on his shoulder, he took a breath. He couldn't let his baby die, not like this. "I'm going to try to rotate the baby. Put pressure on the pubic bone to help the shoulders and neck pass," he told the young man. Gently cupping the baby's bottom, House supported the baby's weight trying to get the cord to shift away from the pubic bone to lesson the compression. Cate continued to cry and with another contraction pushed. He felt the cord shift out of position and the shoulder came out. "One more push, Cate. You can do this." Bearing down hard, she pushed with all of her being, screaming out in sheer pain. Within a few seconds that lasted an eternity, the rest of the baby came out in one slick motion.

The second paramedic immediately caught the baby with a towel and House took him from her hands. She clamped the cord with two clips and cut it in between, separating the baby from his mother.

"Suction," House ordered. She handed him the bulb syringe and he sucked the fluid out the breathing passageways. No breath sounds. No crying. Only his own breathing, thunderous in his ears.

"Is he breathing?" Cate called.

"Just relax, honey," his mother comforted, holding onto Cate's sweaty damp head. She shushed and rocked her as she cried silent tears. No one made a sound in the room.

House continued to clean out the nose and mouth. His hands were shaking and he had to fight the sweat in his eyes. His baby was so tiny. So purple from lack of oxygen. In his mind he calculated the time his cord was compressed. Two, maybe three minutes. His Apgar score was low, very low. He was cyanotic.

"Bag."

The air bag came from the other medic and he positioned it over the baby's mouth and nose.

"Starting CPR."

The medic squeezed the bag sending air into the baby's underdeveloped lungs as House gently began chest compressions with his two fingers. "Come on baby, breathe. Breathe."

Nothing was happening. _One, one thousand, two, one thousand_…. He chanted the counts in his head as he massaged the baby's soft chest. _One, one thousand, two, one thousand_….

The silence grew deafening.

"Breathe. Come on, you can do it. Breathe."

Still nothing.

House's world closed in on him. His baby still was not breathing.

It was taking too long. Every second that ticked by, was another chance that slipped away.

"Breathe baby, breathe. Please, breathe." He could hear Cate cry in the silence as her baby boy fought for life.

"Breathe Ben! Breathe goddamn it!"

House was beside himself. No, he couldn't fail. He couldn't let this happen. He couldn't lose his son. Not now. Not like this.

Suddenly, the tiny baby jerked in his hand and a gasping, gurgling cry came from his little mouth. House felt the tears involuntarily come to his own eyes as he held the wriggling infant in his arms. He was breathing. Finally he was crying. This delicate, beautiful baby boy in his hands. His son.

Cate bawled out a sigh of relief matched by his mother's and her father's cries of joy. Even the paramedics and the concierge let out sighs of happiness. The baby was alive. They had made it.

House knelt forward and handed the baby to Cate who now had tears of bliss streaming down her face. She smiled as took the baby into her arms and caressed his brow looking down at her son for the first time. She turned her eyes up at House and reached her hand out to him. "You did it."

He held her hand to him and kissed her knuckles holding them against his chest as he looked into her eyes, his eyes brimming over with emotion. "No, you did it."

"He's so beautiful, Greg," she cooed pressing her lips to their son's tiny head. "Stubborn and willful, just like his Daddy."

House smiled, letting his tears flow from his eyes as he looked at the only two people in the world he would give his life for in an instant. He had no idea he could feel such love, such a deep and primal adoration for someone. Looking at his son in his wife's arms, he knew he would never be the same again.

Cate brought her eyes to his. "So, you finally came up with a name," she said with a sly smile.

Taking in a breath, he shook his head. "Yeah, I guess I did. Benjamin House."

"Benjamin _Gregory_ House," she amended.

"It's perfect," his mother said coming over to him and hugging him to her dearly.

"You could have thrown a Donald in there, but hey, I'm not complaining," Big Don said jovially, coming over to him. He extended his hand out to shake and House stood accepting it gratefully. He was a little surprised when the shorter man pulled him into his beefy arms and gave him a hug but he laughed despite all of the emotions flowing around him. Relaxing, House brought his hands up and clapped his father-in-law on the back. _Family_. They were family now, good bad or indifferent. And that was ok with him.

"Sir, we're going to need to move your wife and baby to the ambulance now," the paramedic told him as she placed a nasal canula of oxygen around Cate's head.

"Okay," he said taking the baby from her as the two medics put her onto the stretcher. The second medic handed him the air bag and he placed the mouthpiece over his son's tiny face squeezing it to make sure that air was continually going into his lungs. "Well, little Ben. Here we are."

The baby's hands wiggled inside the towel they had wrapped tightly around him to keep him warm. He was never going to let this baby go, ever.

"Greg, look," Cate exclaimed. House turned to look over his shoulder through the plate glass windows to the field. On the Jumbotron, in flashing lights read, "Welcome to the Phillies family, Benjamin Gregory House."

"Will you look at that," her father chuckled. "My grandson's already famous!"

"If he's anything like his father, he's going to set the world in fire," his mother said coming over to wrap her arms around Big Don. The two shared a private moment of pride as they stared at the screen.

House pressed his lips to his baby's head. His skin was warm and had turned pink now, a good sign that his lungs were working just fine. And he breathed out a heavy sigh. His son was going to be ok.

"If the way you came into the world was any indication," he whispered to his boy. "Then heaven help us, because we're going to need it."


	47. Chapter 47: Bonding

Sessions II: Nine Months

Chapter 47: Bonding

Cate lay quietly in the hospital bed listening to the faint yet distinctive sounds around her. Nurses talked, carts rolled down the hallway, patient's TV's droned in the background, someone's baby cried. Somewhere there was a faint beeping, probably a monitor of some kind. But despite all that was bustling around her, here in her room, it was still eerily quiet.

Soon, a nurse would probably come by to check her vitals and massage her uterus to bring it back down to size. She hated it. It hurt like a bitch. Cate knew it was necessary but she didn't care, it was still painful and she'd rather not have her do it. The woman would probably also come with another rubber glove filled with ice for her to sit on for the next half an hour. She was still quite swollen from the expedient delivery and that also hurt like a bitch. And Cate wondered if she would ever get back to regular form.

Television and movies lied like two dollar whores. Giving birth was not a beautiful experience. It was extremely scary and even more painful. And then afterward, your body was a broken mess for quite a while. Sure, you got an adorable little baby out of the process but it was tough to enjoy him because you felt like you've been wrung out and hung out to dry. How was that fair? She waited almost nine months for _this_?

A tear rolled down Cate's face and she turned to her side to burrow sadly into the pillow. She couldn't even see her adorable little baby. She couldn't hold him, feed him, couldn't bond with him. He was in the NICU hooked up to monitors and tubes. Her hormones were doing a number on her and she couldn't even hold her sweet little baby for all of her efforts. The logical part of her mind knew that he needed to be there to grow strong. To give his lungs just a little more time, they were keeping him warm in an incubator and they were giving him oxygen. He was fine - House had assured her. Her medical training backed him up. But it still tore at the empty hole in her chest where her heart was supposed to be. She hated feeling like this. She was supposed to be blissfully happy. At least that was what the greeting cards always said.

Cate opened her eyes and wiped at her nose. House was sleeping in the chair next to her bed. His neck was craned at a really awkward angle and she knew that he was going to be hurting from that later. She marveled at how he could sleep anywhere at anytime. The man was like a sleepy doll. Put him down and his eyes would close. In two seconds, he'd be out. But to be fair, he was exhausted and rightfully so. He had been a champion during the delivery. Her husband was one amazing doctor. She never would have made it through without him. Little Ben never would have… she trailed off in her thoughts, unable to complete the sentiment. They had come so close to losing him, Cate didn't think she'd ever forget those excruciating moments when House pled with the baby to breathe. But, their baby was alive and well, thanks to his daddy. That was all that mattered.

House let out a snort of a snore and spontaneously woke himself up. He winced when his muscles pinched in his neck as he brought his head upright. Blinking, he looked around. When his blue irises landed on Cate, his grumpy expression softened to a warm smile. A fresh wave of emotion came over Cate and the tears spilled over her lower lashes again. He laughed at her and gave her a pathetic sympathy frown for her even more pathetic crying jag. Slowly, he rose from the chair to come lie next to her in the bed. He held her to his chest and shushed her, rubbing his soothing hands over her back. It felt good to be in his arms.

"I'm sorry," Cate bawled. "I can't stop crying."

"It's going to take time," he said over her head. "Your hormones are a mess. You're allowed to be the 'I' word."

Dragging in a shuddering breath, Cate pulled back to look at him. "The 'I' word?"

"Irrational," he said pointedly. It was the only time he could use it in reference to her and actually get away with it so he was running with it like a banner. "_Irrational_, _the state of being emotionally out of control_."

"Yes, I know what irrational means," she said in irritation. "Just because I'm in a weakened state right now, doesn't mean you get to take advantage."

He laughed and hugged her to him, his mirth reverberating in his chest. "Hell yes it does! You'll be back to sparring status in no time so I've got to take my shots when I can."

"I suppose," she said begrudgingly snuggling into his soft chest, listening to his vital heartbeat. His t-shirt did the rest of the job of mopping up her tears and his warmth calmed her. "Where are Mom and Dad?"

"They should be here in about an hour," he told her. "After they came back last night with your bag and a change of clothes for me, they went to stay at Don's. They said they'd do breakfast and then come over."

"Did you call Sheldon?"

"Yep, he's going to try to make it out sometime this afternoon."

"Did you call Wilson and Cuddy?"

"Yep, all taken care of."

"The team?"

"Texted."

Cate sighed and settled into his embrace, exhausted and spent. "Well, I guess you've got everything under control."

"Yes, you just have to lay here and look pretty," he replied.

Cate rolled her eyes. "Yeah, look pretty. I look like a deflated Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade balloon except I have humongous rock hard breasts!"

"Um, and there's a problem with that how?" he grinned.

Cate laughed and hit him on the shoulder "Shut up. They hurt."

He lifted the corner of the blanket and peeked inside. "Well, even in this asexual hospital gown, you still look pretty good to me."

Fresh tears stung behind her eyelids, again. "You're so full of shit. But, I love you anyway."

"Do you want me to get the nurse so you can pump them out?"

"You would deign to speak to a nurse for me?"

"Yeah, I've had to talk them a whole lot," he grumbled. "I've been on my bestest behavior." He flashed his innocent baby blues at her.

Cate leaned up on her elbow and arched a dubious eyebrow at him. There was something so not right about that statement.

He rolled his eyes and then cast them downward. "They won't let me see the baby if I'm a dick." He brushed her hair back from her shoulder. "Do you want me to get someone?"

Cate smiled warmly at him. He was being so wonderful. "I want to go to the NICU to see him."

"Ok," he agreed readily and began to help her out of bed. After putting her slippers on and tightening the sash on her robe, House held her hand as they made their way slowly down to the NICU. Cate was still very tender and was moving much slower than she normally would had she not given emergency birth, a little under twenty-four hours ago. House kept pace beside her without a word. She suspected that he'd had his fair share of people trying to keep pace with him over the years. It was probably nice to have the roles reversed for a change.

Once they made it down to the NICU, they entered the warm, dimly lit nursery. House ushered her over to Ben's isolette. He was being kept in an incubator to keep his body temperature regulated. Their son looked much bigger than the other babies in there. Lucky for them, Ben was born only five weeks early. There was a tiny little one named Sarah next to Ben who was born at twenty-six weeks and had been in the NICU for two months already. She was still very tiny and had many tubes and wires attached to her. It was heartbreaking. Cate had spoken with the mother, Nadine, last evening when the nurses were showing her how to pump out her breast milk to store for feeding time. Nadine had offered Cate strong words of encouragement to just relax and do what she could to be there for her baby. The woman seemed exhausted but there was a strength to her that encouraged Cate. It helped to know that others were going through the same thing and had the same feeling of helplessness. It was clear that the baby's were under loving medical care and that Ben was well on his way to becoming strong enough to go home much sooner than some of the unluckier children. For that, Cate was grateful.

House moved immediately over to sanitize his hands and then placed them into the cutout holes in the sides of the isolette. He touched his hands to Ben's feet and legs and smiled like a proud papa down at his son. Cate followed his lead, cleaned her hands and then stuck them into the holes on the other side.

"They said to just press your hands gently on his legs or belly," House told her, softly guiding her hands onto their baby's bare torso. His skin was smooth and warm and pink just like any other baby's. It felt wonderful to be able to touch her son and feel his life force running through him. It was amazing to see House and his unguarded love and adoration. He was adorable in his devotion to both her and their baby and it swelled her heart with pride. She couldn't possibly love him more than she did in that moment.

A new nurse, that Cate hadn't met before came over to them. She spoke softly to them, as was the rule in the NICU so as not to startle or over stimulate the babies. "Hi Mr. and Mrs. House, my name is Mariah. We'd like to take you both and Ben into our private room where you can pump out some breast milk and then feed the baby."

They left Ben in the main area while the nurse helped Cate to get settled with the pump. "While you're pumping, we'd like to do _Kangaroo care_ with you and the baby," Mariah said to House.

He looked curious for a moment and then asked, "What is that?"

"_Kangaroo care_ is when you share skin to skin contact with the baby," she explained. "We sit you down in a comfortable chair and you hold your baby on your bare chest under a blanket. It helps to bond with your baby so they can feel the rhythms of your body and hear your voice. Baby's who receive _Kangaroo care_ regulate their body temp much faster and stay warm longer."

Cate watched House to see what his reaction was. He nodded his head in nanosecond of contemplation only before he began to unbutton his over shirt. "Ok. Let's do this."

"Excellent," Mariah said and then left the room to bring in Ben.

Cate looked at House as he removed his t-shirt and sat down in the chair that the nurse had indicated. "You're okay with this?"

"Yeah, why wouldn't I be?" he asked her.

"I don't know," Cate said and then trailed off. "I'm just so amazed by you."

Mariah returned with a bundle in a blue baby blanket. She helped House to situate Ben on his chest and then covered them both with another soft blanket that had little ducks on it. Cate smiled at the irony of the ducks, considering how he called his team the ducklings. A new wave of emotion came over Cate as she looked at her husband holding his son in such an intimate embrace. He looked so peaceful, so natural. And she knew in that moment she was wrong before, she couldn't possibly be any more in love with him that she was right now. He was amazing and wonderful and he was going to be the best dad any boy could possibly have.

"I love you," she said, smiling at him through her tears.

House bent his head low and kissed Ben on the top of the head under the blanket. "See that Ben, Mommy thinks I'm so sexy, she can barely contain herself over there."

Cate laughed despite herself and wiped at the corners of her eyes for the hundredth time that morning. Mariah discreetly handed her a box of tissues and hovered around the periphery to stay away from the family intimacy going on in the small room.

"Now his ears really do work," Cate chuckled. "You're going to give the poor kid an Oedipal complex and he's not even two days old yet."

House waggled his eyebrows at her. "Hey, if my mother looked like you, I might have… No wait, scratch that. I have a sexy wife and my son has a sexy mother. Wear it proudly. Now you're a MILF."

"Lovely," Cate muttered. He called her a MILF, a _mom I'd like to fuck_. Cate laughed and brought her hand to her cheek as she blushed a bright crimson. "I'll make sure I sign that on all of his school papers." Turning her head, Cate looked over at Mariah. "My God, the things you must hear in this room."

Mariah chuckled lightly. "I hear a lot. But that's definitely a first."

"Please, that's nothing," House whispered over to her.

"This is him on his best behavior," Cate amended.

Mariah laughed and then helped Cate to switch breasts with the pump. Cate was feeling exceedingly more comfortable as she pumped out her swollen breasts and she finally felt like she was doing something for her baby. Soon, it was her turn to be able to hold Ben against her skin.

House stood with him pressed lovingly to his chest while Cate settled herself in the chair. The fabric was warm from his skin and she felt immediately calm. She opened the front of her robe and he placed Ben against her, with Mariah's help since it was the first time they were doing this transfer. There were wires and tubes that needed to stay untangled. Once they were comfortable, House stepped back and put his t-shirt back on.

"He's like a little oven, isn't he?" he said with a proud smile as he looked down at them as she held their wee little boy for the first time since he was born.

"He certainly is," Cate said in amazement. It felt utterly incredible to be holding her baby against her breast like nature had intended. His skin was so soft against hers, his soft little cheek pressed up against her. His nasal canula that helped him breathe blew a faint breeze of air against her and the pulse-ox taped to his foot radiated a red glow under the blanket but it was perfect nonetheless. Her little boy was beautiful and he felt so amazing in her arms. Finally, Cate felt at peace with the situation. Finally, she felt like it was all worth it. All of her pain disappeared and was replaced by only him. Her Ben, her tiny little son.

House watched her from the other chair. There was a huge smile on his face and a tear in his eye. He was just as touched by this experience as she was. It meant the world to him to see her be able to hold their baby at last. Rising, he came over to the arm of her chair and sat down carefully. Touching his hand to her hair, he leaned over and placed a kiss on the top of her head. "I love you," he whispered.

Cate brought her hand out from the edge of the blanket and held onto his. She smiled at him and felt completely at peace for the first time in the last twenty-four hours.

This was her family.

This was pure joy.

_

* * *

A/N: Figured after the crazy delivery you guys needed a little sweetness. But, I had to do justice to the difficulty of the situation. Cate's hormones making her depressed, the situation of delivering a preemie and not being able to hold your baby all the time like a regular birth. It's tough. Thank you to all of you who continue to review. It really means a lot to me to know how my story is touching all of you._


	48. Chapter 48: Bringing Home Baby

Sessions II – Nine Months

_A/N: There's this and the Epilogue that wraps it all up in a nice neat bow. I've appreciated all of the interest in this story since way back when i first started writing and for those of you who have personally asked me for more. It was indeed an epic. It has been a long time coming... Time and interest had gotten away from me, as a I began to fall in love with a different person for House, but I owed you a resolution and a happy ending. So here you are. Enjoy!_

* * *

Chapter 48: Bringing Home Baby

Little Ben had made a marked improvement over the course of the next week. Cate had been discharged on Monday morning but Ben had to remain until the pediatric pulmonary specialist signed off on his breathing stability. Their little baby was improving day by day and by Wednesday he was off of the oxygen and breathing completely on his own. He was eating well from the bottle without any suckling issues and by Thursday, he was able to latch onto Cate's breast like a champ.

Cate had a small breakdown over leaving Ben at the hospital while she and House went home, but Tuesday that was put to rest. A very early set of twins born at 25 weeks had been brought into the NICU Sunday night. Each weighed less than three pounds. The smaller one had died of respiratory failure Tuesday morning. Cate and House had been there to feed and spend time with Ben when the infant coded. Death was a fact of life and it usually never bothered House but that morning, he couldn't put Ben down. When Cate wasn't feeding him, he was holding him and doing Kangaroo Care with him. House wasn't grateful for many things but he was supremely thankful that his baby was growing strong and doing just fine.

Saturday morning came. A full week since Ben was born, and House's little boy was finally ready to go home. Cate helped him to dress the baby in the tiny Phillies outfit she had gotten him early on in her pregnancy, little white jammies with red pinstripes. Ben wasn't very active right now, but it was still a little like trying to fit a rubber glove water balloon into a woolen mitten. That he had actually tried on a bet during med school; it was an exercise in futility. The diapers, on the other hand, he could handle. It was the chubby little arms and legs that gave him trouble. He looked adorable though. Little feet in footie jammies. What he liked best was the mini homie-G knit cap the hospital had on him to keep his head warm. It was blue with darker blue horizontal pinstripes and covered his perfectly round head in the soft cotton. His little gangsta ballplayer, all he needed was some bling and a baseball bat.

It was time to go and Cate was busy packing a hundred things House didn't even know they had into the diaper bag. While she was doing that, he readied the car seat. It was one those carrier seats with a handle that clipped into a base on the seat in the car. They had to pick one up at the store because Cate had delivered two weeks earlier than the baby shower Cuddy and the girls had planned for her. They had furniture and some things at the house, but most of the essentials they still needed to pick up. Cuddy and his mother took care of most of it but Cate wanted to get the car seat and stroller. She picked out an expensive one, of course. It was some Eddie Bauer model, neutral beige with some brown and green markings. It was nice enough, House supposed and lightweight. So long as it kept the baby stationary in the car, that was all he really cared about. He did care if it was purple with yellow polka dots. No that was a lie, he didn't want his son looking like Barney and Baby Bop had exploded all over his car seat. The beige was fine with him.

Gently, he picked up Ben from the bassinette and cupped his tiny bottom in his hand as he rested his little head against the cushion of his shoulder. Holding his head, House strolled slowly around the NICU humming quietly. In the few short days in the NICU, he found out just how much he loved holding his son. He was so little in his arms, and he was soft and warm and smelled so good.

"Are you ready to put him in the carrier?" Cate asked him with a little smile.

House patted his hand gently against Ben's back as his little boy snuggled against his chest. He pressed his lips to his clean little forehead and sniffed at the perfect, amazing baby scent. The baby yawned and brought his little fist to his mouth and nuzzled in. No he wasn't ready yet. He still didn't really want to let him go.

Smiling broadly, Cate came over and placed her hand softly on their son's head. "You are going to have to separate from him for at least an hour until we get home."

House sighed, bringing his son's powdery warmth into his lungs. "You like to hold him too," House said.

"I do," Cate chuckled. She was glowing, tired from traveling so much back and forth to the hospital, but she was glowing nonetheless. He was tired too, but she wore it so much better than he did. From everything they'd heard, this was nothing compared to the exhaustion they were about to embark on. House was ready though. He'd spent years not sleeping. Of course he'd been on Vicodin and bourbon at the time. Now, he should be able to handle it pretty well. He had already planned to take off a few weeks after the baby was born to help Cate adjust. Now he was thinking he might take longer to just be with them.

House bent to place Ben into the car seat. He held his head as the shift in positions startled him a bit and he moved. Cate guided his head into the little U-shaped pillow and House tucked his arms into the three-point shoulder harness.

"This thing is gianormous, even with the pillow thing around his head," House noticed as the week old infant slumped like a rag doll under the seatbelt causing a gap and a loop of the extra straps.

One of the nurses, a young woman named Carla, came over with some rolled blankets in her hand. "Here, tuck these along side of him to take up some of the empty space and bolster him in place."

"Oh that's a good idea," Cate said taking them from her and placing them along side Ben.

It was a little better. "He looks like a bean bag Buddha in a Barca Lounger." House leaned over and pressed his lips to his son's forehead. "You can't possibly be comfy."

"Remember he spent the last couple of months all tucked up inside mom," the nurse said pleasantly with a patient chuckle. "He's used to being compacted."

House stood and ran his hand over Ben's head. "Well, Buddy, we're just gonna have to get you to fighting weight."

"Please the way he's been eating," Cate looked at him, "He'll be filling this out in no time." She leaned over, adjusted a few things that she assumed on instinct and kissed his forehead before standing. She brought her bright eyes to his and smiled. "Ready?"

House nodded. Carla held out her arms for a hug and squeezed him warmly. House was a little surprised at the show of affection but put his arm around her in return. They had all been really helpful for the past week. If all nurses were as useful as these women were, he'd actually have a need for them. She stepped out of his arms and turned to hug Cate. The crier that his wife was, she sprouted tears making the nurse misty eyed at the emotional goodbye.

"Thank you so much for all that you've done, everyone," Cate gushed wiping at her damp cheeks. "Please tell Mariah, thank you as well. We are so truly grateful."

"This is what we do," the young woman said. "Best of luck to you. Goodbye, grow up big and strong Little Ben." She touched her finger to his cheek and then left to see to her other patients.

House lifted the carrier and Cate grabbed her bag swinging it over her shoulder. Slipping her hand in his, she turned to him with the remnants of some tears in her eyes. "I will be glad to never see this place again."

House drew his mouth into a rueful smirk. "You can say that again."

They made it down to Cate's truck having decided that hers was the better choice because of the four doors. When they clipped the baby seat into its base and sat in their respective seats, House turned the car on.

"Wait," Cate halted him before he put the engine into drive.

"What?" he asked alarmed.

"He's not facing us," she said. "We can't see him."

"He's supposed to be backwards," he said to her. "The rear-facing car seats are recommended up until a year old, maybe more. It absorbs crash forces better."

Cate stared at him with an amused smirk.

House drew his eyes away to look in the rear-view mirror. "What? I did research."

She touched her hand to the side of his face and chuckled. "You are so adorable."

"Whatever," he shrugged of her hand and she laughed at him.

"I want to sit in the back," she announced suddenly.

"Oh now who's being over-protective?" he grinned at her.

"I didn't say you were over-protective," she objected opening the door. "I said you were adorable. Two different things." Getting out, she came around to the driver's side passenger door and hopped in the back of the truck.

He shook his head. She was one who was absolutely adorable. "Can I go now?"

"Yes, home Jeeves," she teased leaning over the infant carrier fixing and ministering minutely to his every possible need.

A touch over an hour later, House pulled into their driveway. He turned the car off and breathed a huge sigh of relief. That had to be the most stressful ride he'd ever taken since he learned how to drive in his father's 1976 Chevy Caprice. In many ways, learning to drive with his old man in the car criticizing his every move was a far cry less nerve-racking than driving his precious little cargo home with the Safety Patrol in the backseat.

His mother's car was in the driveway. As was Wilson's in the street. He knew the crew had planned a quiet little welcoming party in lieu of her baby shower. He didn't tell her because they had wanted it to be a surprise. She was so preoccupied with Ben that she didn't even recognize the extra cars around the house.

House took the carrier from her and she readied her keys to the house as they walked up the path to the front door. "I cannot wait to just settle in and be alone away from everyone. I need peace and quiet after that whole ordeal." She looked imploringly at him over her shoulder and he just gave her a thin smirk.

"Mhm… I hear ya," he said in mock commiseration. Well, she'd have to wait for a few more hours for that peace and quiet and alone time.

Opening the door, he followed her as she entered their living room. Two steps in and she came to a halt as everyone cheered and offered them a grand welcome.

Cate turned to look at him with shock and amazement in her eyes. She was bewildered at first and then a wave of emotion came over her and her eyes began to immediately well up again in appreciation.

"Welcome home, darling," his mother said coming over to fold her daughter in law into her arms.

"Oh, Blythe," was all Cate could say.

"Oh sweetheart, we are all so glad you and my precious little grandson are healthy and safe at home now," she told her, tears brimming in her own eyes. "You gave us all quite a scare."

Cate wiped at her eyes and looked around. Her father stepped over and wrapped her into his big burly arms. "Catie girl."

"Dad," she wept into his shoulder while House's mother came to kiss him sweetly on the cheek.

"Welcome home sweetheart," she said warmly and bent down to kiss her grandson on the forehead. "Hello, my sweet grandbaby. I've missed you."

House stepped further into the room as hellos and hugs were exchanged with everyone. The whole gang was there, Wilson and Cuddy, Thirteen and Foreman, Cameron and Chase, Kutner, Taub and his wife Rachel. All of them so glad to see everyone home and eagerly waiting to meet little Ben. Moving into the dining room, he placed the carrier onto the table and clicked the buttons to tilt the handle back.

Ben was sleeping soundly, completely unaware that the crowd of worshipers had gathered to wish him great health and prosperity. House unbuckled him from the seat and lifted his saggy little body out to hold against his chest.

Cuddy waddled close to him with her hands on her extra large belly. She smiled at him with tears in her eyes as she touched her hand gently to his son's head. "I never thought that I would see the day that you were a devoted father," she told him, admiring his baby with amazement in her eyes. "He is so beautiful, House."

"I do make 'em cute, huh?" he said with a smile.

"No, it's his beautiful mother who can take all the credit for that," Wilson said clapping him on the back. "Mazel tov, House."

House turned and shook his best friend's hand. "Thanks, Wilson." He grimaced unable to help himself. "Your demon spawn will take after its mother too."

Cuddy rolled her eyes at him but continued to coo at the sleeping baby in his arms. "Your Daddy is the biggest pain in my ass. He makes my life a living hell, you'll see."

"Ben, watch out for her, she lies. She makes Daddy's life a living hell."

With well wishes from all around, House and Cate spent some time just holding Ben and talking with their friends as they took care of everything from drinks to food to putting all of the gifts away in Ben's room.

It was a wonderful day. They were home with their baby boy, safe and sound. And their family was around them, celebrating in their joy. Neither one could have asked for anything more.

In the weeks that followed, House had remained home with Cate. They settled easily into a routine with Ben's schedule. They were a happy little family just enjoying their life together. Cuddy had given birth to Rachel, a healthy 6 pound 8 ounce adorable little girl. Wilson was ecstatic and had finally given her a ring solidifying her place as the fourth and final Mrs. Wilson. Cameron and Chase had set a date for their wedding sometime in May of next year. Foreman and Thirteen had decided to move in together and Kutner remained his jovial, puppy dog self. Taub and Rachel were little on the rocks but they were working it out, with House's help or interference, depending on who was looking at it.

Life was good. And after the past couple of years they all had had, it was a nice change of pace.


	49. Chapter 49: Epilogue

Sessions II: Nine Months

Epilogue

_A/N: So this is it folks. I've appreciated every kind word, every thought, favorite and alert along the way. This story, from it's beginning in Sessions, was my first foray into writing a full length novel. Truth be told, by word count it's actually about four or five books! It was a labor of love, an experiment to see if i could do it and a fun and fantastic journey into discovering what I was truly capable of. And I am thrilled to know just how many of you love it. Thank you, thank you for all of your support along the way. It truly honors me to know that you've read my words and become attached to my thought process because I can't take credit for these amazing characters. I can only study them to learn how to write such fantastic amazing people. _

_Thank you to Spot and Punk for being my beta and my sounding board. She has been invaluable through out. And thanks to all of those great people i got to know who have read this from the beginning. I count you among my friends!  
_

_I have one more little one shot in this Sessions Universe that I will post called Sessions: Ben and the Purple Crayon. And unless the muse gets a wind of inspiration to delve into their world again, I think we can close the book on these two and know that they lived Happily Ever After. Thanks again and Enjoy!_

* * *

The sound of gentle crying woke House from his light slumber. His eyes turned to the clock on his nightstand and he quickly got up before Mother Bear stirred. House liked these quiet times in the wee hours of morning. He used to spend them once upon a time ago with his bourbon and his piano just enjoying the solitude of the quiet night. But now, he enjoyed the solitude of just him and his son. It was their time, uninterrupted, peaceful and nice. He would get up and cross the few steps to his bassinet in their room and pick him up without making a sound. Ben wasn't much of a crier, he just kind of whined and complained a bit when he was uncomfortable, needed his diaper changed or was hungry. They were very lucky from what people told them because evidently a baby who cried a lot and didn't sleep at night was like a living nightmare.

As House changed him, the little baby looked up at him intently gurgling with newborn excitement. He knew he couldn't really see much, just some blurry shadows and colors, but the curve of the baby's lips into a semblance of a smile made House feel good. Irrational though it may be, he was proud to see his son smile at him, even if he couldn't seriously distinguish him from the tree painted on the wall behind him. Nevertheless, he picked up the baby and placed him high over his shoulder as he made his way downstairs to the kitchen.

Cate pumped out breast milk regularly so he would be able to feed the baby at night. It had become their little routine in the short few weeks they had been home. They shared most of the daytime stuff, like the feeding and changing. His favorite was the bath because Ben smelled so good all wrapped up in his teddy bear towel when he was done.

House never thought that he would become as attached to another human being as he was to Ben. He never, ever contemplated just how much he would love being a dad. Every little detail made him happy, from the minute he woke up to the second he laid his head on the pillow at night, knowing he'd be up in a few short hours to tend to his son again. All of it made him giddy with pride. He adored the little socks that covered his pink little feet. He reveled in the smell of the fabric softener they used to keep his jammies soft. He was amused by the stupid little rattles and the cheesy little bunnies on all of the blankets that kept him warm. But, mostly, he loved to hold him when he fed him a bottle and then lay him on his chest in the quiet of the afternoon to take a nap.

No one could have predicted just how much he'd enjoy being a part of it, least of all him. There was a part of him, when he'd found out that Cate was pregnant, that was terrified that having a baby would change his life forever; that he wouldn't be capable of loving someone so unconditionally. He wanted to run and for a split second he wanted her to not want the baby, to make that decision to terminate so they could go back to just being them, the two of them alone together without responsibility. But now looking back on it, it was all fear. Fear of being this happy, fear of being this guy that loved wholly without question. He never knew that he could love this much. It was true that he loved Cate with all of his heart and soul. But this was different. This kind of love, the kind that a parent holds for their child was remarkably different and distinctly soul stirring. People who didn't have children would never understand it. It was just a fact. He hadn't known until he held Ben in his arms on the day he was born.

In the quiet of the night, he continually thought about his wife. Cate had always believed in him. It was one of the things that he loved so much about her. She had faith that he would be a good father to their son. He was scared in the beginning that he would wind up like his father, bitter angry, harsh and unloving. But Cate had taught him how to love and accept things he couldn't control. She had taught him to be a better man and she had helped him learn how to love again.

If this gentle boy in his arms was any testament to that fact, she had succeeded tenfold. He loved both of them unconditionally; they were his family. And he would never go back to the darkness that had ruled his heart for so many years.

He was saved. Saved by a woman who understood him completely and by the knowledge that he would live on in someone else. He would be the best father he could. He would love unconditionally and he would be there for everything. He just didn't know any other way to be anymore.

Greg House was a changed man.

THE END


End file.
